


The Vow

by scottandstiless



Series: Til' Death Do us Part [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Car Accident, Coma, Credit to Tumblr Prompt, Criminal Profiler, Derek Feels, Derek Saves Stiles, Derek and Stiles are married, Hospital, Hurt!Stiles, Love, Lydia and Malia feels, M/M, Memories, Minor Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Near Death, Nightmares, Not my original idea, Post Season Six, Rollover Car, Scott and Stiles friendship, Sick Stiles, Stiles is in a coma, Stiles loses his memory, Stiles-centric, The Pack, after college, car crash, non-canon, sterek, stiles almost died, wedding vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9418649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottandstiless/pseuds/scottandstiless
Summary: I decided to write a fic for the prompt called "The Vow" from  sterek-stories on tumblr;Happy young married couple Stiles and Derek is, well, happy. Then a car accident puts Stiles into a life-threatening coma, and upon awakening, he finds he has lost the previous five years of memories–including of being married to, or ever in love with, his beloved Derek.





	1. The Crash

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of this prompt, the show, nor the characters, nor am I a professional or expert in law or medical administration and therefore research before I write. Please let me know if there's any incorrect information :)

Stiles Stilinski is 23.

He's fresh out of college. His cheeks still turn red at the sight of some people, and he still styles his hair the same way he had in high school. He still looks exactly the same, just an inch taller since those days. He still makes stupid Star Wars references and wolf jokes, and he still stays in touch with a certain strawberry blonde. He has a Masters degree in criminal law and justice, even though he has majored in forensics. He's just so incredibly smart. He's got these honey brown eyes and a smile that can light up the room. He's a bit clumsy and loud, but he is human. 

Derek Hale is 28. 

He's unemployed with life savings, and not college educated, but smart enough to go to the Ivies if he wanted to. He's got this brooding grim look that would murder anyone in a second, but a heart of gold for those who'll listen. His hair was jet black, his eyes ocean blue. His fangs haven't been coated with a tangy red boiling color since he's seen Scott McCall, but he's a werewolf.

Derek has no one.

Stiles was loved by everyone.

Doesn't it just make sense that a special doe-eyed cutie tried to bring in some happiness into the sourwolf's life? And of course, one thing lead to another, one yes lead to another yes. And everything clicked the day they got married.

The reception was beautiful. It was a reserved area with flowers that could only come from a Disney movie. It was a small get-together laced with white everywhere that gave you and outdoorsy modern feel. Only their closest loved ones attended, and when Derek's invitee list was small, Stiles had comforted him in times of grievance. A few names they hadn't seen in years popped up; Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Malia Tate, Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Melissa McCall, Noah Stilinski, Alan Deaton, Natalie Martin.

What's sad is that they haven't made contact with some of these people in 5 years, ever since high school, ever since Beacon Hills decided to throw up supernatural baddies. But Stiles had made sure to call his dad a few times a week, just to make sure he was okay. Noah Stilinski was still serving his years at the sheriff's department while Stiles keeps joking about retirement. And of course, he always talked to Scott. Best friends whenever am I right? They had even invited Peter Hale, but he hadn't showed. But Stiles didn't let it ruin Derek's day, because everyone else had loved him and fully supported the two. It was the best day of their lives.

Derek had vowed to keep Stiles safe, and to love him forever and always, and to never leave his side, in sickness or death.

Stiles had vowed to keep Derek happy and pure, to keep him into a loving human being and restrain from his alpha rages, and to never leave his side, in sickness or death.

"Do you love me?" Stiles had asked the night before the wedding, where he had looked so genuine, so beautiful.

"I do." Derek truthfully said.

They repeated it the next day in bliss.

It's been only a few months now, 3 months and 24 days to be exact. Not that Stiles was counting, but he was. They were living in a suburban apartment shortly outside of Los Angeles. The two had agreed to not live in Beacon Hills anymore, because we all knew how that would end. They spent their days happily humming to the sound of the bustling cars sending vibrations up and through the house, shaking the plants that have resided by the window sill. It was a tidy studio, small, but more than enough space the couple needed. 

Derek was in the kitchen when Stiles got up that Saturday. Everything had seemed so normal, you couldn't picture what would happen later. 

"Morning Der," Stiles groggily said after coming out when he changed into black dress pants and a lavender dress shirt with a tie that looked a little too dressed up for his own taste. 

"Good Morning." Derek had already laid out two cups of coffee and some freshly baked cinnamon rolls that had an aroma that just lingered around the room. Bless. Derek smiled at his get-up, admitting in his head that he looked amazing.

Stiles gave him a small kiss, smiling before they both sat down across from each other and had a lovely breakfast. 

Derek looked across at Stiles, fishhooks pulled on the corners of his mouth to reveal his pristine grin. "You look nice." He said softly.

"What- do I usually not look nice?" Stiles joked, taking a bite out of the baked good.

Derek chuckled, "You look extremely nice today. Handsome." 

Stiles blushed, "I've got a job interview at UCLA today." 

Derek smiled, "really?" Stiles nodded. 

"Wwwwwwhich I'm gonna be late to if I don't get going," Stiles mumbled behind some stuffed cinnamon rolls in his mouth and fumbled with his keys in his pocket. His black tie swung around as he struggled to get it secure against his extravagant getup. Stiles anxiously toyed around with it, clearly stressing out about the event. "Oh man." Stiles whispered, looking at the clock. Derek pulled him closer to him, catching a scent of anxiety and a rapid heart rate.

"Hey- hey look at me. Stiles- you're gonna do fine, and they're gonna love you and you're gonna be amazing." Derek held him close before going to fix and secure his tie neatly, he held his hand as he squeezed it.

Stiles took a deep inhale to calm his nerves. "okay.." He pulled at the tie, finding it quite nicer now that Derek has fixed it. "But what if they don't love me? Then what- find another job? I've been after this for like ten months."

"I'll still love you." Derek glared into his honey-brown eyes again. 

Stiles smirked, "I guess that's a better deal." 

Derek grabbed Stiles' coat and his briefcase, handing it to him. Just at the door, Stiles said, "I love you," but Derek had stopped him before leaving.

"Take it easy- please, and don't go too fast! If you're late, then you're late. I want you home tonight. Alive. Call me when you get there." Derek gently cautioned him as courteous as he could. 

"I'll be fine baby," Stiles smiled, giving him another goodbye kiss and disappearing to his car. Derek watched him leave, noticing Stiles' unique choice of footwear.

Black converse sneakers with dress attire?  
Okay then.

"I knew he caved," Derek thought, smiling about his nerd. Derek went on to clean up to try to ease his worries. He thought of sending texts just to check up on Stiles, but what if he checked while he was on the road? He decided against it and gave his husband his space.

Stiles nervously looked in the rear view mirror, he still looked good, but a little babyish. He was starting to wonder if he was ever gonna start looking older, because currently he still looked like a high schooler. Stiles took another deep breath, lacing his fingers on the driver's wheel and started the engine.

It takes twenty minutes to get to UCLA. Stiles, after graduating with almost an exact 5.0 GPA, had decided he wanted to go for a Criminal Profiler job opportunity. Derek knew Stiles would want to follow in the footsteps of his father, but he preferred something less- gruesome and scary. After the hell Stiles went through in high school, Derek only wanted to cherish him and keep his babe safe. Plus, after all those years on working on cases with the sheriff, Stiles must've gotten bored, thus he decided to go on a different adventure. It was just a bonus that he happened to have been pretty damn good at profiling too.

Stiles fidgeted around with something on the driver's wheel on his blues Jeep as he drove on the highway. It was 8 in the morning, why the hell was it so empty? The fog cleared in as Stiles felt something horrible, fumbling with the parts of his broken down car. "Damn it." He whispered, thinking back to Derek's last recall.

"Take the camaro." He grumbled.

"I'm taking the Jeep Derek." Stiles protested.

"That _thing_ is gonna get you stuck in the middle of the street. The camaro's safer. Hell, I'll just buy you a new car if you don't want mine!" Derek profusely debated this, in which it became a heated dinner table conversation every now and then. 

"Dude. I'm not getting rid of my car." 

"Stiles! If you don't get rid of the car, it's gonna get rid of you by killing you!" 

Stiles snapped out of it, the previous hours of conversation dedicated to it. Not enough duct tape can save this hell concubine, and Stiles was starting to think so too. Stiles used his free hand to reach down as far below the wheel as he could to see what was going on before deciding to pull over. 

"Jesus." Stiles cursed, he was gonna be at least twenty minutes late at this rate. He flipped up the hood to find that one of the engine tanks' connections were loose. Oh thank god, all he needed was to tighten it up. Stiles went digging in his trunk for his tools and pulled out a wrench. The metal reflected his fingers that appeared to be shaking in nervousness. He quickly screwed it in extremely tight, and then wound it in heavy duty duct tape as a backpack plan before returning his hardware to the back and getting into the car again. He decided to text Derek to make sure he's not freaking out.

_Had some car trouble again. I'm late, but okay. I'll call when I get there. Promise. -Stiles._

The fog seemed to start getting worse as Stiles looked out from the front car window. He sprayed the windshield wipers when he thought it was just his eyes deceiving him, but no, thick clouds engulfed the sky. Bad timing. The young man buckled up before slowly and cautiously pulling onto the highway again, carefully trying to refrain from hitting more than forty miles an hour. Stiles started to get worried with the thick smog, but then there was a clearing in the air, a light. He couldn't tell what it was, but it was light coming towards him rapidly as it grew bigger and bigger, brighter and brighter and before Stiles could get his hands to swerve the steering wheel-

Boom.

An instant crash. Slowly, then all at once.

And in that split moment before, Stiles swore at his own idiocy. 

It was a wrong-way driver.

The collision had been full on, the front of the other Toyota had completely smashed through the front of the broken Jeep. The wheels swerved, Stiles was thrashed around the metal death box and then the inevitable worse happened. 

The car came to a breaking halt, sending the left side of the Jeep tumbling over itself as the car rolled over onto its side, then crashed down onto its roof. 

Glass flew everywhere, broken car bits flew within hundreds of feet in radius. Pieces of the car's bumper laid in the side of the road as reflective lights glistened all shattered-like. There was a smoking smell from the jeep's burned out engine, and the two cars had looked like they were in a demolition derby. Man, they were _destroyed_. 

Stiles had instantly blacked out. The airbags inflated themselves, but they were now covered in blood, as was the rest of him. Glass pieces had embedded themself into his skin, a long thin line of red blood ran underneath his eye. A sharp blade had pierced him in the shoulder and another in the chest. A dark crimson color flooded underneath his fancy dress attire. Rips and bruises along his skin discolored it, and he had slammed his head against the wheel and then it was thrown back against the metal on impact. _There was blood everywhere_.

Stiles slowly opened his eyes only to find himself in the worst possible scenario. He couldn't turn around to see what had happened, all he wanted to do was scream and scream and scream. He couldn't feel anything as if he were paralyzed. As if the pain were too much to humanly bare and his body was shutting down. Stiles tried resisting the betrayal of his drooping eyelids, but he was finding it impossible to breathe. It was like his lungs were being filled with blood as he saw a small drop of the red color drip from his mouth in a blur. 

I'mdeadimdeadimdeadimdeadimdeadimdead.

It was all he could think of, as he laid there, too immobilized in his own pain, and too discombobulated to do anything about it. He didn't even have enough energy to fight for air as he felt his throat constricting with flowing blood. He head a head blood rush, then realized he was freaking upside down in the car. His body was bent and folded underneath the constricted metal as the blood from his gash under his eyes slowly dropped and dropped onto his bloody lips. Panic set in when he became conscious of what was actually happening. He felt his lungs concave, he couldn't breathe. A large metal rod that came apart from the car had bashed his arm, trapping it underneath a pile of scrap. He was in so much pain that he went numb, and everything blurred into one. He couldn't bare to look at himself in the cracked mirror upside down, _there was so much blood_ Stiles gave in, allowing his eye lids to drop as darkness creeped in with scarce, raspy breaths. He survived so fucking much only to leave this god damn world like this.

It was time that Derek started to get worried. Stiles promised to call him, he promised to let him know if he was okay. And now, Derek had a tinge of a bad taste in his mouth and he felt a jolt in his veins. _Maybe he just forgot._ Derek started to get beyond worried.

It must have been ten minutes of silence that Stiles endured. He had been trying to reach his phone, fighting against every single drop of the boiling pain, of the death nearing him. Finally, he had finally touched the phone, letting a shudder of remorse out. Come on, come on. He just needed to press Derek's contact, he was so close. 

So close.

His finger hit the call button and Derek's phone was dialed before Stiles threw his head back, trying to breathe.

"Stiles? Oh thank god I was getting so worried that you didn't call, I thought something happened!" Derek answered immediately, his nerves were on edge.

The phone line was silent on the other side.

"Stiles? Are you okay? What's going on?" Derek frantically answered.

He heard a gurgling and a spit, it was the sputtering of blood drip from Stiles' lips as he tried to talk. 

"Stiles! Stiles!" 

The phone line went dead.

Derek immediately got up for his keys and found himself racing out of the house while trying to find out where Stiles was. He's just gotta go the same way to the drive for UCLA right? Derek drove in anger and frustration, trying to pick up a scent but failed to do so in his cammaro. He looked in the rear view mirror, tears were welling up in his eyes. Derek tried ringing him again, no answer. He cursed as he got onto the highway and suddenly he picked up a scent, it smelled of musk, and cinnamon like it's from an Old Spice deodorant, and a bit of his own scent. It was Stiles. Derek tried to watch his speed as he drove by but was quickly stopped by a road block. If the highway had been blocked off, then how did Stiles manage to get far? The man stepped out the car and sought out for him, feeling a tear drop when no one answered back. Derek looked around, seeing no sight of a blue Jeep, and the scent wasn't strong still. He decided to return to his car and go around onto the freeway. That's when Derek's heart started to cave in to his ribcage. He felt it- he felt the strife being felt about a few miles out. It only took him some odd minutes to come upon a hint of blue off the side of the road, another empty car was destroyed on the middle of the freeway. The scent got stronger and stronger as Derek prayed and prayed for it to not be Stiles as he drove closer, but oh my god it just kept getting stronger and more lustful and it smelled of fresh blood and- 

"No, no, no, no, no, no," Derek whispered cold under his breath as it became louder as he approached the vehicle when he got out of his car. "No, no, no! Oh my god-" Derek laid his eyes open the wreckage that looked like death had just played a game with.  
"Oh my god, oh my god." Derek got as close as he could, his nose scrunched as the chaotic fumes clashed with the bodily fluids. Stiles was bloodied and cut to death. "Stiles! Stiles!" Derek yelled out through the broken window next to Stiles. He listened in to hear a slight heartbeat, it was faint- but it was there. "Stiles! Open your eyes baby, come on god damnit!" Derek screamed again, reaching in through the space and grabbed Stiles' hand. 

It was so cold.

Blackened veins crawled up Derek's arm rapidly, causing Derek to writhe in pain but outlasted it long enough for his husband to come to. Stiles opened his groggy eyes, barely any energy left. Derek tried to assess the situation- the car was currently on its roof and could collapse on Stiles at any given moment, his arm was trapped under some fallen metal, and he had glass shards embedded that pierced his skin. Oh yeah- and there's freaking blood everywhere. Stiles could only open his eyes, he couldn't speak, he could just look ahead and try to at least breathe. The entire world was fuzzy and upside down. "Stiles? Stiles can you hear me?" Derek professed, as he pulled out his claws when he got no reply. Derek gathered all his strength and pulled at what was left of the metal scraps that made up the door, ripping it off its hinges. He then clawed away at the seat belt, slowly fraying it until it split into two. "Stiles- hey, hey keep your eyes open okay baby?" Derek tried to calmly say. If he leaves Stiles in there, he could die from the obstruction on his body or from the car. If he takes him out, he will feel more pain but likely won't die. Derek made the decision as he looked at Stiles' body that fell limp at the release of the belt, and then Derek slowly and carefully pulled his body out of the car as Stiles winced and groans slightly. 

"Stiles, Stiles come one stay with me please- breathe, just focus on breathing," Derek said.

"d-d-Der... d-d-d..-erek," Stiles stuttered, his lips were tinged with blood.

"I'm here baby, I'm here, I'm gonna get you help okay? All you have to do is stay awake." Derek pleaded, as he pulled Stiles' body in between his legs and rested his head on Derek's chest. "Stiles baby don't close your eyes." He didn't want to cry, Derek had to stay strong. He swiped his thumb away at blood stains that washed onto his chin, and then swiped again at the drip of it underneath his eye. Derek immediately phoned 911.

"Hello? 911, what's your emergency," He heard a woman say.

"There was a crash- my husband- he's dying, the car rolled over onto the side of the road and he's badly hurt and-"

"Okay, sir, calm down, can you tell me exactly where you are?" The speaker interuppted him. 

"It's the freeway off exit 38 on Palmerdale Route."

"Sir that's been closed off for a few hours now." 

"No, no it's one the freeway, right off it." Derek explained timidly.

"Okay Sir, we are sending emergency services on your way." Before the woman could even finish, Derek hung up and took his attention to Stiles. He unbuttoned his lavender dress shirt, and revealed the bloody mess and bruises left. He slightly gasped, noticing Stiles' heart was starting to slow down. The skin on his bicep that had been pierced was starting to get severely red with the glass, and there was bruising on his lower abdomen. Derek placed one hand on his chest, and held Stiles' hand with the other and simultaneously drew out as much pain as he could tolerate. 

"Der-... you ha- you have to... To take- take.. It out." Stiles struggled to say in one sentence as he referred to the glass. That was it, he could feel his lungs deflating inside him when he started to have to breathe shallowly.

Stiles started to feel like he was dying.

"If I take it out you'll bleed to death," Derek warned, as he tried to take in as much pain as he could once again, wincing with the flood of adrenaline and tingling sensations in his body.

"Pl.. plea-please.. T-t-t-take it out-" Stiles tried to say.

"Stiles you have to leave it in there! You'll die if I take it out." Derek cautioned again, tilting Stiles' head upwards again.

It was all shock and pain and jolts and tears and blood oozing out from his body. But it was coming to the point where pain was replaced with a numbness, and his cries were replaced with tremors and bliss took over his fear of dying. It was like the calm before the storm, where everything just seems so peaceful and so gentle before a monster hits. And just as he couldn't hold on, ambulances pull on closer to him, Stiles couldn't hold out any longer. He succumbed to his fatigue and dizziness as he allowed darkness to creep in from the corner of his eyes. 

"Stiles, Stiles! They're here, don't stop please! Please wake up Stiles! _Wake up Stiles baby!_ Derek started yelling for the paramedics to help him as they rushed to the wreckage. Derek could barely hear a heartbeat. All he could do was w. It was a bloodshow. Derek started losing it, tears streaming down his face as a man had to pull him away. 

"You have to help him! He's dying!" Derek said hysterically.

"Sir- we're doing all we can," He reassured him and took a towel to Derek's hand and wiped Stiles' blood off his palms. Glass was still embedded into his skin but he was still bleeding out as they examined his blood painted body. The EMTs rested him, giving him a surplus of attention when they realized he wasn't breathing. Multiple hands were on him at a time, attempting to rid of the excess glass fibers without worsening his condition. They cleaned up the glass that could easily have been pulled out. 

"He's not breathing. We gotta go fast, he's bleeding out fast." Derek heard one of them say. 

Derek had missed much of what happened because of an abundant amount of paramedics trying to help himself and find out what happened. All he saw was one putting a neck brace around Stiles as soon as they got an oxygen mask tightly strapped and an IV started. Derek heard them curse because they couldn't administer any drugs until they were at the hospital, so they agreed to get him airlifted. 

Stiles' eyes groggily opened and blurred for a second. 

"Mr. Stilinski, can you hear me?" The EMT said, but received no response as he closed his eyes again. Soon within a few minutes of touch and go, a helicopter had arrived as they loaded him on. 

"Low blood pressure stats, blow to the head, foreign object impaction in upper torso, signs of severe concussion and nerve damage to the left arm, low heart rate and is drifting in and out of syncope. He's in critical condition- we gotta move quick before he goes into shock at the least." He heard the man ramble to another doctor as they went off.

Derek just prayed as they took him to the hospital in the ambulance, saying that he should be "evaluated." He definitely considered the bite, but at that rate it would've killed him. 

All Derek could do now was hope.


	2. Comatose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I apologize for any incorrect medical information, procedures or descriptions as I rely on the internet for my source and in no way should I be relied as a professional medical health source. Sorry for the typos, I write this on my phone Oops.

The multiple doctors rushed to the young man's aid as he laid half dead on the gurney. The paramedic wheeling him in rambled of a list of things for his condition the others. 

"Mr. Stilinski can you hear me?" A doctor said as they attached him to blood pressure machines and a more durable oxygen mask. He flashed his light directly in his glassy dilated eyes. Stiles' eyes slowly opened and somehow didn't burst into tears.

Immediately, Stiles started writhing in pain and wincing, but he didn't have enough energy to remotely even yelp. He started shaking and flailing in restlessness.

"Mr. Stilinski, you're in the hospital, you were in a car crash. Do you remember that? Can you hear me?" The doctor forced his hands against Stiles' body to keep himself from further injury.

" _Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts_ " he rasped.

"I know- we're doing all we can hun, we're going to get you wheeled into surgery after we get you down to Radio." A nurse besides him explains as she cuts through his entire shirt and pulls it off in pieces and discovers the mass bleeding. 

Stiles muttered and groaned again in pain, his hand floating to the glass stuck in his chest and starts crying out hysterically. He wheezed roughly. Every single muscle ached.

"The OR isn't available, the most we can do is administer local anesthetic and do it right now." The nurse suggested and the doctor nodded, bringing a crash cart with multiple materials.

"Keep him aware and talking."

The nurse tried to soothe his pain and pulled his ID from his wallet. "Mr. Stilinski," the woman looked at it. His license must've been fairly new because to her he looked the same, but really he had just looked the same since he was 18.

"Mr. Stilinski, I need you to tell me if you can feel this." The doctor pulled at his arm, which was incredibly numb.

"Feel... f-feel what?" Stiles rasped again, trying to fight the darkness as he felt the oxygen being pushed down tighter. The doctor then squeezed his fingers on his injured arm. Still no response.

The man became very concerned, looking at his pager. "We have to get him to down to radio quickly, see what's broken and what's not before we do anything else." The nurse was cautioned as they tried so desperately to keep Stiles' heart rate going. The sprayed his chest with a cool orangish-brownish liquid that soothed his burning skin. A pair of metal tongs had barely every touched the glass shard lodged in there, but the pain had started to compile all in one in the young man's body as he tried to shift frantically, every single nerve hurt. Stiles started groaning, and then they turned to shrieks and cries when they applied pressure.

"Calm down bud," The doctor said as a nurse started to drip a sedative into his IV. "We're giving you a sedative, it's a very light dose, you'll be out for thirty minutes at the max while we get this out." He heard the head authority say as his eyes dropped, and dropped, and dropped. The nurse kept track of his stats and vitals as they injected a drug into his chest to numb it, and slowly and carefully took out the large blade that poked out, and then quickly replacing it with gauze when blood flowed. The doctor couldn't do anything more than just a simple whipple stitch quickly just to get it to close up until he was taken to surgery. The nurse had opened up the neck cast he wore just to check for visible marks, but then closed it back up in case of a spinal injury. They had cleaned up his blood splattered complexion and his hair, and then they examined the bruises on his arms and abdomen, but these weren't just bruises. The doctor drew a concerned and appalled look, wondering as to how Stiles isn't in the most pain humanly possible. "We gotta get him to Radio- immediately." Instantly an entire team of people were racing against the clock to get him down for labwork and tests as quick as they could. It just became serious. "He's bleeding on the outside."

Derek had walked out of the office about twenty minutes after Stiles was taken downstairs for the tests, refusing medical help since he wasn't hurt, but they were worried he was "emotionally deprived and devastated," but Derek had thought otherwise. He sat in the waiting just for him to meet Stiles' doctor who was finished.

"Ah Derek- you're Mr. Stilinski's husband," The doctor asked.

Derek nodded. "Stiles- yes." The other man drew a brow. "His name's probably longer than my patience, he prefers Stiles."

"Ah yes, I see. Thank you." The doctor looked down at papers before explaining to the man's spouse. "So we just brought him up from radiology and are taking him to the operating room for surgery."

Derek's heart dropped. "What did you find out?"

"Well your husband has been through a lot. He's got a severe concussion and seems to be suffering from anoxia as a side effect of the crash, it's the extreme loss of blood. He also lost functionality in his left arm- that's what they're gonna try to repair too, but he's got a lot of vulnerable openings from impactions from foreign objects. We're extremely surprised he wasn't in worse shape, especially with the internal bleeding, usually the pain is too much to handle. And most people never even make it to the ER from crashes like that." He explained very thoroughly. 

"You said Anoxia-" Derek pointed out when he noticed the doctor had paused and his heart had skip a beat.

"We're afraid that because of the loss of so much blood it causes oxygen deprivation to the brain which can result in an aneurysm, a coma, or even death. Considering the circumstances, he's lucky if he walks away alive. He was very lucky you were there to save him, or else I'm not sure he'd be here."

"So.. so what's gonna happen now?"

"We're gonna go in and close up whatever's bleeding, and we're gonna fix up a punctured lung and a few ribs. We've also gotta do a small procedure on his arm to reverse nerve damage or else he'll lose it. With the circumstances, we're worried he might have injured his brain." The doctor said as he kept his cool.

"But- is he gonna die?" Derek asked, trying to keep his grim brooding voice when threatened by a bile taste in his mouth and tears in his eyes.

"I- I can't say anything. I can't imagine the amount of excruciating pain he's in, and how badly tossed his body was, but I think you got him help early enough for us to help, Derek- you saved him." The doctor explained sentimentally as Derek started to become extremely concerned, his mind raced with thoughts of different scenarios, of how he could've gone with him, of how maybe if he had kissed him just one more time, he would be a minute behind and would of never collided. He felt incredibly guilty.

All Derek could do was sit down in the waiting room as he dialed his phone in anxiety.

"Beacon Hills Sheriff Department," Someone answered.

"Hi, I'm Derek Hale- can you pass this along to Sheriff Noah Stilinski, it's an emergency regarding his son." Derek softly asked. He was hunched over in the chair, his elbows placed on his knees as he rubbed his face.

"Of course." The voice whispered on the other end of the phone, Derek could hear the footsteps and the creak of the door. "Sheriff- there's a Derek Hale on the phone wanting to talk to you. Something about your son."

"Hello? Derek?" The sheriff boomed on the phone this time.

"Sheriff-" Derek tried not to break down.

"Derek? What happened? What's going on?" He became extremely worried.

"There was an accident." Derek managed to say. "Stiles- he- he was in an accident and his car rolled over."

"Oh my god-"

"It's bad."

Noah immediately stopped everything he was doing. "What the hell happened Derek?" He spoke sternly on the phone.

"I don't know, o-one minute he was with me home and then the next he's on a phone call with me and never called back," Derek's voice cracked for the first time in a heck of a lot of years, his fingers wrapped around the chair arm rest.

"Derek it's.. its gonna be okay." The sheriff didn't want to make him feel even worse then he was. He didn't know what happened, how bad Stiles' is in shape, or what the hell was going on. But all he knew was he couldn't make it worse, he needs to be there for his son-in-law. Derek trembled in anxiety in the chair, rubbing a hand down his face. "Are you guys at Los Angeles Memorial?"

Derek let out a quiet "yes," before Noah told him it'd take him three hours just to drive and get there, but he'll be there as soon as he can. The 28 year old's body trembled, hopeful for a good outcome.

\--

Hours passed, Derek's concern skyrocketed, and Noah was still stuck in traffic. Derek had fallen asleep around ten in the morning, compared to that harsh six he had woken up at. He was awoken by a gentle young lady. "Mr. Hale? Hi," She smiled sweetly. "I've got an update on your husband. They've still got more to do, perhaps an hour or so, but they've cleared him of spinal injuries and fractures, and they've repaired all they can with the cuts and have successfully stopped the enternal bleeding. Currently they're working on repairing his nerve damage in his arm and leg."

Derek let out a breath of relief from the somewhat good news. "Thank god," Derek smiled, praying underneath his breath, and thanked the woman when she left. Derek had wanted to pass sometime so he grabbed a cup of coffee.

He was standing behind an older lady with a smaller child, watching her as she wobbled. She put down her bag and helped the little girl put her hair up before grabbing her coffee and sitting down in the chairs. The little girl played with her sun-kissed auburn hair, and with these grayish blue eyes she reminded Derek of Lydia. He went over to them quietly. 

"Um excuse ma'am, you forget your purse" Derek clutched her bag and handed it to her as he sat down. 

The woman's eyes glowed, "oh my- thank you so much dear! I swear if my head wasn't attached to my body I would forget it everywhere." She was very grateful. 

"Hi mister," The little girl went up to Derek.

"Hello, what's your name sweetie?" Derek smiled as it took his mind off edge.

"Adeeelaid" She elongated the pronounciation. 

"That's a very pretty name. I'm Derek."

The little girl blushed and played with her hair before her attention averted. "Gramma' gramma! I wanna snack!" She pointed at the vending machine behind them. Derek turned around.

"Addie honey I don't have change, why don't we get you something later?" The elderly woman suggested after rummaging through her bag only to find cashed cards and big bills.

Adelaide's smile turned in a pout as Derek caved, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a five dollar bill from his wallet. "Here, why don't you get what you'd like?" The little girl screeched in delight and ran away to her mute her hunger. 

"Oh no you didn't have to do that-"

"Please- It was my pleasure." Derek smiled, his award winning grin shined. The lady smiled in return in gratitude.

"Are you visiting someone dear?" The lady asked politely

"Uh- my husband.. he- he was in an accident." Derek stuttered blankly.

"Oh I'm so sorry- is he doing well?"

"He's currently in surgery, but he's a trooper." Derek grinned.

"You poor thing- I'll pray for him," the lady looked back only to find Adelaide still trying to decide what she wanted.

"What about you guys?" 

"We're waiting for her mother, she's been sick for quite sometime." She solemnly explained as Adelaide came running back.

"All we need is hope." Derek comforts her.

"Look! Look I got Little Bites! They're so yummy ahhhh!" The little strawberry blonde held a tiny muffin in between her tiny hands.

_Bite._

_Werewolf._

_Scott._

Shit.

Derek freaked mentally, realizing he had forgot to call Scott, Malia, and Lydia, knowing that they would want to know.

"I- I'm sorry I have to go, I hope the best for you guys." Derek apologized for abrupt leave.

"Oh hun' the same to you- it was a pleasure meeting you." 

"Bye Derek!" Adelaide waved big and brightly as Derek did back to her before leaving. Immediately he dialed Scott, and he answered. Thank god.

"Scott?"

"Derek- we know." Scott reassured him. "His dad called. We're on our way, it'll take a while though. Is the sheriff not there yet?"

Just as they spoke of him, he had showed up with a stressed face.

"He literally just came. I'll call you back." Derek hung up and met with the sheriff who gave his son-in-law a huge hug.

It was another hour of sitting and explaining exactly what happened before the doctor had come back. "Doctor Corbin, this is Stiles' father, Sheriff Noah Stilinski."

Corbin shook his hand before updating him. "Stiles is out of surgery finally, we've repaired as much as we could. But, due to the extent of his injuries, we don't know whether he has full use of his right leg and arm, and we won't know until he wakes up. With that said, we're keeping him in the ICU and watching closely because there's a high possibility he'll slip into a coma, but for now he's breathing on his own. The impactions had just barely missed his lungs and heart, he's an incredibly lucky man. We just.. want you to be ready."

Derek didn't know how to feel as he felt Noah's arm on his back. 

"You can see him if you'd like. But one at a time please, and not long, he's asleep."

Derek held his breath as he followed them to the cubicle in the intensive care unit. "You can go, you need to be with him." Noah said, comforting him very much.

Derek crept in very slightly and scanned every inch of his body. He had bandages everywhere, and his body relied on stitches to keep it composed. A long pad ran down his chest as it absorbed the blood, and his right possibly paralyzed arm was in a sling with a bandage shoulder. He was changed into sweatpants that hid a scar that Corbin described next to his hip where they had tried to restore his nerves. On his face where bruises running down his cheekbone, and an oxygen masked laced around it. Derek sat down and wrapped his hand tightly against Stiles' trying to not touch the IV that was inserted.

Derek wasn't gonna cry, he couldn't. He won't. He just swore under his breath.

"Fuck Stiles. How did we ever let this happen?" Derek could already feel tears threatening to leave. Black veins fed out and into the alpha werewolf, causing him to squirm in slight pain but toughed it out. Derek just watched his baby for a good five minutes before he caved into the immense amount of pain. He hasn't felt that bad since he was shot by wolfsbane- it was just too much for anyone to handle.

Suddenly, the heart monitor started beeping, it got faster and faster and rapidly started to blare. The sheriff came running in, wondering what's going on. Stiles' body had become completely rigid.

"Stiles!" They called out, having no idea what was happening as Noah ran out for a doctor. Derek grabbed Stiles' hand, trying to fight against the pain but then he started to tremble. Stiles' chest jolted up and down, tremors were sent up and down his spine as his fingers spazzed out rapidly. The young man's eyes were closed but he let out slight grunts that escaped his mouth. Doctor Corbin came running in yelling, "Move! He's seizing!"

Nurses came in in a frenzy as Stiles' condition started to deteriorate, his blood pressure dropped as so did his heart rate as his body continued to convulse. The man's skin started to lighten, becoming of a lighter tint as the doctor loaded a syringe into his chest to stop the seizure. "Stiles- Stiles calm down, calm down, can you hear me?" He asked as his body started to slow down, but the beeping of the heart monitor quickened in pace. 

"He's crashing! Get a crash cart!" The doctor ordered as nurses came in with one, sending a chaotic vibe throughout the room as Noah pulled Derek, who was hysteric, out. 

"What the hell's going on!" Derek yelled.

They lowered the bed as Stiles' heart started to slowdown and eventually started to come to a stop. They pulled out defibrillators and prepped, pulling off the mask that he wore.

"Charging to 300. 1, 2, 3, clear!" Corbin sent jolts throughout Stiles' body as a continuous beep started to play. 

"He's flatlining." A nurse read off.

"Come on Stiles- come on, charge to 400." The machine powered with strength as the doctor prayed, "1, 2, 3, clear!" Stiles' body jumped slightly, but still nothing.

"Again! Charge it to 500 joules." He demanded, determined to not let go. 

"Sir- it's too strong it'll destroy him internally." A nurse concerned him.

"It wont- just do it!" They charge it to 500 reluctantly. "1, 2, 3, clear!" It was the last shock sent to Stiles' chest that jumpstarted his heart. The entire group let out a breath of relief as the heart monitor released its steady, highly-welcomed beeping. "Alright, let's get him intubated." Morphine and drugs were added into his IV again. They slipped in a plastic tube down His throat and eventually into his chest that was hooked up to machines and a ventilator that allowed him to breathe. The nurses worked on him for a good ten minutes making sure everything was stable, but started to get worried when he became unresponsive. They started to test his reflexes, his stimuli, his blood pressure, and basically everything else. And what happened when Stiles wouldn't open his eyes, and what happened when Derek wasn't allowed to come in, and what happened when they ordered tests but nothing showed positive?

Well.

"Derek, Sheriff.. I'm afraid Stiles has slipped into a coma. We don't know how long he'll be in that phase, and the ventilator is basically breathing for him.. we've done all we can, now we wait. I'm sorry." Corbin explained, but to Derek it seemed so fucking rehearsed, "  
 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"_ yeah, it sounds rehearsed.

Derek wanted to blow his minds out as he fell silent. Noah wrapped his arms around him even tighter this time as he teared up. 

All they have now is hope.


	3. Carnations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, to get the balll rolling. Thanks for the lovely comments! I'll update again soon :-)

"He's been sitting there for two days straight. He hasn't let go once." Noah quietly said, bracing his arm against Scott McCall who held his hand with Malia Tate. A certain strawberry blonde by the name of Lydia Martin had been right by their side as well. 

The whole gang was there.

Each had matured so wonderfully, but still reminisced of their high school senior days. The only differences in any of them was the stubble Scott had finely pursued, and that Malia had traded her denim booty shorts with hued skinny jeans tucked into her boots that made her eyes pop. The only other difference? Malia and Scott were getting engaged soon, and everyone knew about but Malia liked to let them keep thinking she hasn't caught on. The entire group has kept in touch, even during college. Scott and Stiles had talked about three times a week, sometimes even in the same day. Scott and Malia had taken an emergency booked plane trip over back to their home state, for they attended at UC Davis. Scott pursued his dream of being a veteranarian, even receiving multiple degrees, while Malia majored in forensic sciences with a Bachelors degree. Now, we all know she isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but her keen senses help her pick up some details an average human can't, and she realized that like Stiles, she was actually good at this crime stuff, pfft, what even is math? And as for Lydia? She graduated college at MIT early as a major in biomedical engineering, and was working her way up to a high position somewhere in Boston. 

"That can't be healthy for Derek." Scott quietly said. He'd spent the last day bawling his eyes out and beating himself up over Stiles' accident. He couldn't bare to look at his shockingly still body hooked up to all those wires. He was more gauze and plastic tubes then he was human.

"Corbin said they didn't know how long he'd be like this.." the sheriff sighed. His eye bags had become more noticeable for he had cued the waterworks as well. "They run EEG imaging daily so far, and his brain is still active. He said he has high hopes he'll pull out." 

"Guys it's Stiles- if anyone can survive it, it's him." Malia reminded them, missing her old flame. 

"He won't die.. I can tell you that." Lydia quietly answered as they saw Derek flinch, just for a second when he yawned in the ICU cubicle. They don't even know how he was allowed to be in there, all they did know was that the sheriff had something to do it with. The crew sat down in the waiting room, refusing to leave their childhood best friend. It possibly couldn't end like this- Stiles Stilinski, cause of death- untamed werewolf? Kanima? Oni? Nogitsune? Berserkers? Dread Doctors? Ghost Riders? 

Nope.

Car accident.

And it truly was such a shame.

When he wasn't trying to take pain away, Derek was praying to god that Stiles would wake up. Now, Derek hasn't picked up a bible in countless years mind you, but it was a time in need. It brought him back to the day of the wedding when the couple were bickering over last names.

"So are we gonna hyphen this 'ish? Because uhhh.. I have a first name that's longer then all the Star Wars episodes put together." Stiles chuckled as he picked and prodded at the legal papers. 

"No that's ridiculous! We'll go by Stilinski." Derek had desperately wanted to get rid of his ties with his family, he tried so hard to put them in the past. Stiles' had signed up to deal with his everlasting grief and burdens. Not to mention his acute bitterness.

"We'll go by Hale." Stiles fought.

"Stilinski." Derek argued again.

"Hale."

"Stilinski." 

"Hale." Stiles defended.

"Jesus Christ Stiles- Why the hell do you want to keep my last name?" Derek gave in, curious for his fiancé's reasoning.

"You don't have any family." Stiles admitted. "I have cousins, and uncles, and aunts and grandparents- the whole shebang! Why can't we start over- with you and me, the Hale family?" 

It wasn't much, but it was certainly enough to make Derek smile, even now as he gripped his husband's pale, possibly paralyzed fingers that were entangled against the IVs. Now he knows why Stiles was so anxious to get his license re-done. It still said M. Stilinski, not M. Hale. 

"Stiles, wake up. Please." Derek whispered, his eyes becoming glassy with tears that formed.

The sheriff knocked on the door, letting himself in as he sighed at the sight. Noah had prayed so hard that he would never, ever have to see his son in the hospital ever since his junior year, after the nogitsune. "Whatcha' thinking?" Noah quietly asked when Derek seemed distracted, but the corners of his mouth seemed to curve. 

"Nothing.. just uh.. that day we were trying to figure out the last names.. I don't know I just-" Derek sighed, not feeling the clarity to even finish his sentence.

"Derek son, you've been here for hours and hours, look at yourself, you're so tired. You need to go home and rest."

Derek glanced at him. "As long as he's here, so am I." He cautioned. He didn't feel drained.

Let me rephrase that.

He didn't feel _physically_ drained.

The sheriff came over and sat down by him. "He'll wake up. I know it. And when he does- you'll be right by his side, reminding him how much you love him. But you can't forget to take care of yourself. So for now, you need some rest." 

Derek smiled slightly, "I need some coffee." 

The sheriff chuckled light-heartedly as a small edgy, silence crept in before Derek broke it.

"UCLA called."

"That damn school. He's always dreamed of it." The sheriff explained, reminiscing of the days when Stiles explained to him at the age of seven, that he was gonna study journalism there so he could be a sports broadcaster and work with the Mets. 

"I know, he got so close. They offered their condolences after finding what had happened when he never showed, and said they felt guilty because the interview was not mandatory, but rather they had just really wanted to meet Stiles in person because he was so wonderful." Derek explained his conversation he had prior with the head of administration from the university who had contacted him. 

"So it could've been avoided huh?" Noah suspected, realizing that Stiles' wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for either the job or the idiot driver.

"Yep."

Noah sat back in the chair and took it all in, the horrifying news and everything. "Why does the kid have to be good at the dangerous stuff?" He quietly whispered in remorse, but also kidded.

"Stiles was never one to shy away from danger." Derek smiled, referring to the fact that they would've never met had Stiles not brought himself into the midst of evil and danger that lurked in Beacon Hills.

"I think people who are meant to be, find their way to each other. Wherever the hell they are- and whatever the hell they are." The older man comforted his son-in-law, wrapping his arm around his back. "You know, we kinda picked it up the first time Stiles brought you home. And not the first time as in that- the _first_ first time, leather jacket and brooding face and all, throwing it back to the "I'm so cool but don't talk to me because I'll kill you," phase." The sheriff tried to shed some light as he spoke with hand gestures.

Derek chuckled hard for the first time in a few days. "oh my god. To be fair- I was wrongfully accused of those crimes."

"I know- I know, but- you met Stiles because of it. So uh, I don't know I think I'm pretty much Cupid." Noah joked, receiving an even bigger laugh and grin from Derek as he sighed. 

"So what do we do now?" Derek asked, his voice was small.

"We wait. And we hope that he opens his eyes. And in the meantime, I'm gonna find a hotel or something to stay at with the kids before heading back out." He explained, referring to Malia, Scott, and Lydia as kids. Derek suddenly felt incredibly guilty for bringing a hardship on them.

"Scott and Malia have bags packed right? Lydia too?" 

Noah nodded.

"Well- now I guess I have some extra space in our apartment, and we have an extra room we don't use-" Derek started. "I can cover anything you guys need and this way they won't have to be on edge about Stiles."

"That's a wonderful idea Derek, but my duty calls- although I don't mind driving up every other day here to check in. But you should talk to them about it, I think they'd be delighted. For now, I gotta go- call me as soon as you get an update and I'll be back at night." Sheriff Stilinski smiled, the badge he proudly wore on his jacket shined as he headed out and talked to the gang about the housing situation. Derek sat there, still and as calm as his husband, who was devoured whole by medical equipment. Who knows how long Stiles would be like this- silent. He's heard of stories of some people waking up from a few weeks, to 12 years, and of stories where suddenly they can speak another language, or can play an instrument they otherwise wouldn't know how to. Stiles is a miracle case walking, it's a miracle he's alive. 

Derek's eyes averted to the barren bedside table that was occupied by prescription medicine and an empty vase. That's what motivated him to get up and do something, so he went his way to the gift shop after receiving a thank you text from Scott as they settled in. Derek slowly crept in as a lovely woman greeted him.

"Good morning!" She burst cheerfully.

"Good morning," Derek tried to fake a smile and not grumble, knowing it was not one at all.

"Can I help you find something?" 

Derek shook his head, "I'm fine thank you," he said politefully. He immediately caught his eyes on the most beautiful bunch of pastel blue dahlias, the perfect flowers. His fingers caught onto the stems as the baby blue radiated against his dark sleeves of the Henley he wore. It brought so many memories back, taking him once again to the night of the wedding. 

Stiles looked so breathtaking again, his appearance was still fresh in his mind three months later.

Three months, 26 days later.

Derek looked into his honey-brown glistening eyes that held tears back forcefully. He plucked a blue carnation flower and tucked it into the handkerchief pocket of Stiles' black tuxedo, Derek's tuxedo was white. His arms wrapped around his husband, as Stiles' head rested on the alpha's shoulders. Their feet shuffled to the slow song for their first dance as everyone else found a partner. 

"I love you." Stiles whispered, never wanting to let go of Derek. He didn't let go of him in the sheriff's station, he didn't let go of him in the hospital, and he didn't let go of him in Mexico. He sure as well wasn't gonna let go then. 

"Stiles I love you." Derek smiled, bringing his lips upon Stiles and capturing it in a moment of bliss that made his entire world just stop that he had to remind himself to breathe.

Derek snapped back out of it, finding himself purchasing a few blue carnations and returning to Stiles' small ICU cubicle. He stopped for a good five minutes, unable to think, and unable to function before realizing what he wanted to do. The empty case was now filled with some water, dazzling flowers, and flower nutrients from the packets the lady at the counter gave him. He had just sat down by the bed when someone had come in.

"Doctor Corbin." Derek smiled.

"Derek, you're still here?" He walked in with small plastic zip lock bags. "We restored some of the items Stiles had on him when he first came." He handed them to Derek, who spotted Stiles' wallet and keys. 

"Thank you very much," Derek politely said. "Is there any updates?" He watched as the doctor monitored Stiles' vitals, and changed the bandages quickly.

"Well- we won't know how long he'll stay comatose, or if he will wake up at all. But for now, I guess time will tell." He explained with a taste of regret and sorrow in his mouth.

Derek had all the money he and Stiles would ever need from the family vault. He would wait for Stiles to wake up whether it was a day or seven years. He'll be there. 

"In the meantime- I want you to leave for a while, you've been here 24/7 and you look exhausted. Could be a symptom of PTSD." Corbin stated, skeptical of the bags starting to form under Derek's eyes.

"I'm fine." 

The doctor sighed before leaving. "I'll let you know if there's any update."

Derek slouched back in his chair, dragging his hand to his forehead and started to cry. He started to silently sob, the cold, wet tears pressed in between his skin and fingers. He felt a fire in his stomach, a burning passion and needed fresh air, not these toxic, ammonia-filled fumes that forced its way up his nose. Derek stumbled up, leaving the room and quickly marching out the doors and was welcomed with pure oxygen. Derek held his head, horrified and heart-broken, must've been a delayed reaction. 

Stiles is in a coma.

Stiles Stilinski is in a coma.

_His husband is in a freaking coma._

And slowly, then all at once, guilt and fear and anxiety and sadness crashed in on him, cornering Derek in every crook and cranny in his mind and overflowed viciously. Finally, he composed himself. He can't let himself, a grown man, ball his eyes out and scare someone trying to come by. Derek spotted a coffee shop next door to the hospital, so there he went, and there he sat for about fifteen minutes before realizing he never ordered in the bustling cafe. Derek rubbed at his eyes, and ordered his usual mocha to go and decided to march back into Stiles' familiar Intensive care unit cubicle.

Derek put down the coffee on the table to the side as he grabbed the ziplock bags again, pulling out Stiles' wallet, keys, and something small and shiny had taken Derek extra time to find after it had fallen on the ground. Derek felt the corners of his mouth curl, and let out a sigh of relief when he found out it was Stiles' wedding band. Derek was so concerned that he had lost it in the wreck, or it had gotten ruined. The engraving of S.S., Stiles' initials were still finely marked. He enjoyed the fact that it was an S, and not an M for his first name. Derek twisted it around his fingers, it's pristine edges were still perfect, and he put it back in the bag so he wouldn't lose it. Derek then pulled out his keys and wallet, placing the keys in the drawer considering he won't need the Jeep anymore. It made Derek laugh when he thought about, that when Stiles wakes up, he'll probably be more concerned about how his damn car was doing rather than how he was. 

Derek put the ring into his own wallet for good measure. He latched his hand against Stiles' once again, seeping as much pain as he possibly could before the wincing became too much.

Derek started to softly chuckle, thinking about all of their past memories together.

"Hell, I've never seen you so still. I swear to god when you wake up I'm never gonna let go of you. Or that bat of yours." Derek smiled, "I miss that bat. And your laugh, and your smile, and that thing you do when you kiss me, and I miss all your nerd Star Wars stuff, and I miss watching baseball with you. I miss you." The alpha sniffles, trying to regain his masculinity back. 

The minutes started to fade into hours, and Derek drove home for the first time, realizing he needed to shower and at least try to groom himself. All it took was for Derek to pull the keys out of his cammaro.

Immediately, he just broke. 

He looked into the rear view mirrors with despair in his eyes. Suddenly his hands started to pound against the driving wheel, shaking him down to his core in angst. He threw jacket to the other seat, and soon his fangs started to come in. The older man retracted his anger, pulling away from his vicious animal side and stepped out of his car calmly. And all it took was for him to enter the apartment and sit down at the kitchen table.

just wasn't the same when he unlocked the front door of the apartment. But everything else was.

The succulents were still in their spots, their washed coffee cups held their grounds, untouched since their last breakfast. The world didn't stop. The world doesn't care that Stiles Stilinski is in a freaking coma. Derek started to cry. And I mean _cry_ , not _I just got fired cry, not that's so sad cry_ , but _my world just ended cry_. In the comfort of his own home, Derek completely broke down, burying his face into his hands. He was startled when he heard another voice, embarrassed even.

"Derek?" Scott crept out of the hall. Derek stopped, his stern look eased up and remembered that his friends were staying over for the week. "Sorry I.. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No- no it's fine I uh.." Derek rubbed as his eyes. 

Scott looked finely dressed, his blue collared dress shirt was tucked into khakis casually, "Malia and Lydia are downtown right now, they're getting some stuff done." He took a seat next to Derek, smelling the wretched scent of grief and anxiety that lurked on him. "Don't-" Scott started, "Don't worry- he'll pull out. He's gonna wake up." Scott tried to put a brave smile. You gotta hand it to him, he's been handling the situation very well.

"What if he doesn't?"

"He will." Scott reassured him.

Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks. If Derek wasn't at the hospital, he was at the coffee shop trying to bury his conflicted mind with newspapers, mochas, and black coffees. And every time those flowers wilted with the toxic fumes in the air, Derek made another trip to the gift shop and replaced them. It had become such a practice that the lady downstairs was on a first name basis with Derek. Everyday he wished Stiles good morning, and everyday he wished him goodnight. He always kept the ring close to him, and sometimes stared at if for such a prolonged time that he forgot what he was doing. And everyday he took a bit more and more pain, until he could not tolerate anymore. Of course Lydia, Malia, and Scott checked up everyday the first week, but they had lives, they had to go home some point, but Derek promised to call whenever there was a change. Sheriff Stilinski always drove up every three days, because the drive was just too long. He'd spend hours just sitting by his ill son, his fallen soldier, he liked to call him. Noah should know, he was in the army.

It was a never ending cycle of depressing days, and the days started to get colder, and longer for Derek. It started to get harder to do this everyday, for he lacked motivation. The guy didn't want to talk to the walls anymore, he prayed for a response. 

Just once. Please.

And so, out of the blue, exactly 28 days, there was a change. There was a sign.

There was a response.


	4. Pack Mentality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Another update for you, I hope you like it! And I know the recuperation time and post comatose Stiles seems a little far fetched from real life, but considering he's having pain taken away all the time it makes sense he's back and at it quickly. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I have no expertise in any medical or surgical/health background so in no way should this be used as a professional source. Please let me know if something is wrong so I can gladly fix it! (Unbeta'd work this is)

Derek felt his heartbeat quicken, his eyes widen at the sight.

His finger twitched.

His freaking finger moved.

"Stiles?" Derek quietly called out to him, but then the spazzing stopped. "Stiles-" He repeated, "can you hear me?"

The movement scattered into his other fingers, and at once his hand started to cramp up as Derek called out to a nurse who came in with Doctor Corbin, the limb tapped on the bed sheets. But then Stiles' hand laid still.

"He- he was moving!" Derek yelled out.

"Derek.." Corbin said solemnly, "he hasn't had any activity for almost a month.. if he was the monitor would've caught it."

"No I swear his hand, it was moving- he's awake!" 

"You know Derek, the mind can do some pretty trickster things.. common symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder." Corbin said as he went over to the still patient, reading his vitals and changing the intubation tubes with a newer one. "His heart rate was only brought up because of the added morphine flowing through the IV. Otherwise, his heart would've stopped. It's almost like he had none." The nurse went on to replace the bandages on his chest once again. 

"I'm not-" Derek was interrupted by a change on the screen, and started to pick up the slightest rasping whistle with his keen werewolf senses. The doctor jumped back a second, shocked as the monitors started to pick up a stronger beat.

"What the hell.." he whispered, glaring at Derek who was smiling hopefully. Corbin pressed his stethoscope to Stiles' chest, picking up a steady, thumping heartbeat as he started to stir. Slight groans escaped between the dry fine lines of his lips that were protruded by plastic tubes.

"Mr. Stilinski? Can you hear me?" Corbin spoke, slowly watching Stiles struggle to open his eyes fully, little slits started to grow as he produced slight choking grunts.

Bright lights blurred as his eyes opened further. Stiles stirred, awaking from an almost-month long sleep. Derek almost died on the spot, receiving glares from the nurse and doctor and tried to resist holding Stiles' hand and reveal his supernatural abnormalities. 

Corbin smiled at the both of them, realizing he should've trusted Derek. "Welcome back." Stiles stayed calm, welcoming himself back into the disarray and chaos of the room. He didn't fight against the tubes in His throat, but instantly he felt a burning pain all over his body. "We're gonna get this out right now." Corbin referred to the intubation tubes, as the nurse slowly crossed into Stiles' comfort zone and removed the medical device. The young man struggled to catch his breath, but eventually he relaxed his nerves.

"Stiles.." Derek whispered as he smiled, trying to hold back a tear.

Stiles' vision blurred, unable to focus on what was being seen or said.

"Mr. Stilinski, you were in a car crash. you've been in a coma for a month. Blink twice if you know where you are." Corbin shined a light into his eyes that made him wince.

Stiles blinked twice, knowing he was in the hospital but was too hearse to speak. A calm lady slipped ice chips into his dry mouth and relieved his pain. The two checked his vitals again, updating his condition in their data and waited a few minutes to pass by. Derek just wanted to hug his husband so damn tight right now, but feared of crushing his fragile bones.

"Mr. Stilinski we're just gonna test your reflexes, to see if everything is functioning properly." Corbin suggested after Stiles' groggy phase floated out. He took his pen and pressed the cap to his left leg. "Tell me if you can feel this." Stiles nodded. "Okay, what about this?" He then poked at his right leg.

Nothing.

Stiles looked worried, wondering if he was touching him or whether he just couldn't feel it. Derek felt his heart drop. The patient shook his head and concerned the doctor. 

"He can't feel it?" Derek asked, his voice was small.

Corbin prodded at his leg again. Still nothing. He gave Derek a sad look, a nervous one. "Why don't you try wiggling your toes?"

Stiles started to feel like they were banging him. Man, not even half an hour since waking up and he's already regretting it. But still only his left toes moved. "How about this? Try moving your fingers." He poked at his left arm, and received a nod and a wiggle of all five fingers. Corbin went onto to the right hand that was previously injured and received a hiss from Stiles. Obvious pain seared through his shoulder once again.

"Mr. Stilinski- It seems that your right leg has been paralyzed through the nerve damage.. However, depending on the results we'll get after we take some tests, there may be a way to reverse it." The doctor informed Stiles who looked at him with almost-closed eyes. 

"What- So what does that mean for Stiles?" Derek asked. He seriously wanted to a punch a wall right now.

"Well-"

They were both interrupted by a very burning question. 

"Is that me?" The young man croaked as he laid in bed, his body broken in pieces. "Am I Stiles? I'm Mr. Stilinski?"

Everyone stopped and stared at the elephant in the room, dropping their jaws so far they forgot to pick it up.

"Yes. That's you- Stiles, can you tell me anything you remember? Can you tell me what's your home address?" Corbin got closer, checking his vitals and his recent x-ray imaging results again. 

Stiles shook his head slightly, embarrassed he couldn't even remember his own name.

"What was the last thing you remember?"

"I- I don't know." Stiles meekly said. His vision unfocused again and so did his mind.

"Amnesia." Corbin concluded. 

Derek got closer, grabbing the edges of the bed in vain. "You don't remember who I am?" He whispered.

"Am I supposed to?" Stiles replied back softly, looking up at Derek with doe eyes. 

Derek's heart fucking shattered.

"I-" Derek couldn't get himself to finish his thought. "How could you forget me.."

Stiles immediately felt a wave of guilt crash down on him, it shook his core. 

"Okay Derek I think it'd be a good idea to let Stiles here get some rest." Corbin suggested rather with a pushy tone. "Mr. Stilinski- in the crash, your car rolled over and your body with it, and you've sustained some pretty bad injuries, including a severe concussion in which you have amnesia, however most of you is doing well. We've just gotta figure out if nerve damage is permanent or reversible."  
Derek gritted his teeth as he watched Stiles start to fade away from his life and was escorted out of the room with the Doctor resident. "That was very unprofessional of you Derek." He looked away in frustration. "I was gonna apologize myself to you for doubting you, but I think you owe one to Stiles after guilting him like that."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were forgotten by the love of your life."

Corbin stopped for a second then continued, "I know it's hard.. and I know this is.. rather an abnormal set of circumstances. But you need to learn to adjust Derek. Build your relationship with him again. We can't do anything about the amnesia, that's something we can never fix no matter how much we try. But- you can start again." Corbin looked through the window of the ICU cubicle to see the nurse tending to Stiles' wounds again, cleaning them so he would heal perfectly. "I'll get back to you about the leg after we run him down for an MRI and CT scan. In the meantime, I think you should call his father." He abruptly left, praying for the conversation to end and proceeded to his usual spot in the waiting room, since he wasn't allowed in the ICU. Derek dialed Noah Stilinski again that morning, but this phone call would start out different than all the others.

"Hello- Sheriff Stilinski?"

"Hi Derek, how's everything going?"

"Uh listen, I know you were here yesterday, but you need to come up again." Derek's voice trembled and cracked.

"Derek- what happened?"

"He woke up." 

"What? Oh my god." Noah took a second. The day he's prayed for all along had finally came. "Oh my god! Isn't that a good thing! Oh my god!" Noah's voice cheered on the phone before Derek's tone and resonance hit him. "Wait.. why- what happened?"

There was a long pause.

"He.. he doesn't remember anything."

Noah stopped. "Well that's- that's normal right? I mean, he just woke up from a month long nap! I doubt he'd remember what happened."

"No.. I mean anything. He doesn't remember who I am.." It didn't take supernatural senses to hear the cry for help in the alpha's brooding voice.

"Okay, I- I'm coming Derek. I'm coming son, I mean- I have to finish this work up, so I'll be there when it finishes." Noah promised before ending the call, as did his job so he could embarkHis would-be two hour drive up to the hospital. 

Derek sat in the waiting room for about one and a half hours. He needed to clear his head, he felt like he needed a smoke and he's never done that, besides his "this is me, it's not a phase Mom," era before the whole fucking family got murdered. That was the one and only time Derek had stolen a cigarette from his father's jacket pocket. His teenager mind was so shaken it was his last resort. This might come in as a close second. His hands are still burying his face until he watched them wheel Stiles down the corridor once again. He trekked in behind him, watching Stiles stir and the nurse poke and prod at his husband as they wrestled to get the oxygen mask off. They wheeled him into another room, this one was not in the ICU thank god. 

"Can I see him?"

Doctor Corbin nodded. "Yes- but. You need to understand Mr. Hale. What your husband has been through- it's very serious. And we don't know how long it'll take to get his memory back, if any. It could be permanent damage looking at the MRI scans. We're gonna look at them closer at the results and consult with you later. He's just luckily he didn't sustain any bleeding or hemorrhaging in there too. Just take it easy." Some doctor he was, but Derek still listened to his "words of wisdom" advice. "We see this all the time, it's best just to make them comfortable in their own skin before exposing them to other natures. He's gonna be out of it for a while. Don't expect him to be talking right away. It usually takes a few days, and he might seem agitated or confused so just take it slow."

Derek crept in as Stiles eyed him down, trying as hard as he could to find him in any corner of his mind. He sat down as he waited for the nurse to finish her work as she injected something into the IV and left them to themselves.

Derek sat quietly, not wanting to frighten the young man. There was a long awkward silence for about two minutes, because really it would be for anyone.

"So.." Derek awkwardly said.

Stiles struggled to turn just to look at him. But he refused to talk to the stranger.

Derek looked down in upset as he stared at the floor.

"Look. I know- I know you don't remember anything, and I know you don't wanna talk but I think we should.. we can start over."Derek looked up again, to find Stiles softly glancing at him. Normally, a coma patient wouldn't be able to pull out so quickly, but with the pain he's taken from Stiles, there is less confusion squabbling in his brain. "So Hey." Derek started. 

"Hey." He quietly whispered.

"I should introduce myself. I'm Derek Hale." He smiled with a big grin. "And you're Stiles Stilinski."

"My name is Stiles?" He rose his eyebrows. "Edgy."

"I see you haven't lost your humor." Derek chuckled, trying to be as friendly as he could. He finally saw Stiles completely open his eyes, that glimpse of a sparkling honey nut brown peeking out. But he looked so tired and so.. broken. He was barely able to even turn his head to face Derek and was in a complete haze. "Sorry.. You literally just woke up from a coma and I'm already scaring you. But I called your dad, he'll be here soon- I can go so you can rest.." Derek started, getting up from the seat.

"No." Stiles managed to get out. "Stay. I'm tired of sleeping." The corners of his mouth turned and curled. "Tell me more."

Derek smiled back gladly, wondering where to start. "I honestly don't even know where to begin.. our lives are kinda crazy- were crazy.. but now they're calm and quiet. You liked calm and quiet after some crazy stuff."

"C-can you talk slower?" Stiles quietly asked. 

"Sorry. Yeah. So, first of all we're kinda married. I guess I should've started with that-"

"We're married? Kinda? Do we have kids? I'm gay? How old am I? Am I too young to be married? What about-"

Derek started to laugh genuinely. "Relax, no no we've been married for less than half a year." He smiled. "And if after all this you don't.. want to be married," he found it hard to say the words, "then that's okay."

"Tell me more. Start from the beginning." Stiles tried to prop himself up against the pillows and winced at the pain coming from his bare chest and his shoulder at the same time. Derek instantly shot up, trying to help position him and secretly kept his hand on his shoulder as long as he could, hiding the black veins running up. 

"S-sorry.. if I got to close." Derek hesitated.

"No- I uh.. it's fine. I kinda feel a little less pain." 

"They say human contact reduces pain." He quoted a specific little werewolf he currently misses. Derek pulled up his chair. "Well." Derek seriously didn't know how to start. And he didn't know whether or not to bring up the whole "spent their entire high school career skipping school and fighting supernatural baddies thing." He'll save that for later.

"This is yours." He pulled out the wallet. 

Stiles hesitated, but reluctantly took it, opening it up and pulling out his license. "That's me?"

"Yeah." Derek smiled again. "Your first name- It was your grandfather's on your dad's side. You told me that when you were younger you used to pronounce it Mischief. Your mother didn't really want it- she thought you were gonna get bullied. But your father-" Derek caught himself smiling at the memory, "nah your father said, 'doesn't matter, we'll just call him Stiles.' Just like your grandfather." He finished up. "You're 23. I'm 28 in case you were wondering."

"I understood half of what you said." Stiles tried to smile. "What car do I drive?"

"What?" The question kind of startled Derek.

"What type of car do I drive? Just curious. A car can really show a lot about a person." Stiles asked, not even knowing what he was asking. Just a question on accident.

"A blue Jeep."

"Really?"

"You were obsessed. You never let that thing go. Ever. I never asked why though."

"I'm kinda regretting never telling you so now I can't figure out why." Stiles chuckled softly, having a completely and totally rational fear of blowing out an organ.

"What I can tell you is that, your favorite colors are blue and orange. Color of the mets. And you never played baseball but still keep a baseball bat in the apartment, you're completely obsessed with Star Wars, and I know that you take your coffee not too sweet and not too dark."

"I sound pretty rad."

"Trust me- you are pretty rad." Derek admitted. 

"Beacon Hills, California." Stiles read. "I've been seeing the LA news coverage everywhere in the hospital so I'm assuming we're not there anymore."

"Nope. That's a few hours short of here, where your dad is coming from- our hometown." 

"Tell me about that. What was it like?"

Derek sighed. "Beacon Hills.. was uh.. something. I'll tell you one thing- there's a reason as to why no one applies for security jobs there anymore." He said condescendingly, bringing back an overload of ugly hated memories he never wanted to be reminded of again. "Just.. just not some place I would rather be in."

"What about your Family? What are they like?" 

Derek stopped for a second, knowing Stiles fell into a booby trap. "I-" He tried to not change his facial expression into anything but happy. "I lost my entire family except a couple- but you're my family and that's all I needed."

"Sorry I.." Stiles caught the forced smile that hid a dismal tone.

"No, no it's totally fine, just something I don't talk about- you didn't know. It's fine." The alpha wolf desperately wanted to change the subject. "I'm sorry this is a lot for you to take in within five minutes."

"I don't mind. I like talking to you." Stiles said, but this time something in his voice betrayed him as his eyelids started to slip. As his eyes started to close, his body went numb with pain and then fell limp as his right injured arm started to tremble. Stiles passed out.

"Stiles-" Derek yelped before nurses came in and stopped the fit through a syringe directly to his chest that made him wince and stutter his pain. He stopped moving and sat completely still, desperately catching his breath as if he just ran a mile. Slits in his eyes started to grow again as he became more conscious. 

"Stiles you had a substantial drop in blood pressure, we're gonna try to stabilize it okay?" A nurse reassured him as she pulled something into his IV again. "But you've gotta try to relax your arm or else it won't heal." 

"What was that?" Derek interrupted.

"We see it often in trauma patients, waking up from a coma and resuming back to normal is hard for the brain, because now it has to think differently and power differently than it has for a while, causing them seizure-like convulsions." The lady explained.

Stiles stirred, finding his right arm locked around a sling. She prepared another syringe. "I'm gonna have to give you an injection to reduce inflammation now that your lungs are healthy. You'll feel just a poke." She swabbed down a sterile area on his chest. 

Stiles whined, refusing to let her do it twice. It hurt too much. "I don't like needles." He exclaimed, becoming incredibly agitated and anxious. 

"You won't even feel it I promise." Derek claimed.

"No, no, no, no, no" Stiles pleaded, becoming frustrated with the two. 

"It'll be quick. We can sedate you if you'd like."

" _No I don't- I don't wanna do any of this!_ " Stiles started to talk louder. Derek tried to comfort him and then the younger man tightly grasped onto his wrist and closed his eyes. The alpha reassured him, placing his other free hand on his shoulder and secretly took the pain out when Stiles closed his eyes, wincing hard until it's over. Derek tried to resist intertwining his fingers to hold hands with him.

"Good." She wraps a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and pulls a cold stethoscope to his heart. "Relax- just breathe in big and then breathe out," she reminded him when his chest heaved a bit quicker.

Corbin walks in swiftly, asking for the vital stats as he reads his clipboard, taking in all the information. He ordered Stiles to look in different directions as he flashed a light in his eyes again. 

"Nice to see you are up Stiles," Corbin smiled, "it's a bit intriguing however- usually post-comatose patients are unable to be literate, or talk even. It's a real miracle you are right now." He digs through files. "Well we've analyzed the results of all the tests." Corbin holds up an image, pointing out to the resonance details. "First from the MRI, we've noticed an abrupt interruption during EKG scanning, and severe concussions symptoms prevail, so we can block that out as cause for amnesia, and or behavioral dysfunction. In the CT scan, This set of nerves had been severed, causing a paralysis in his right leg. What we can do here, is surgically go in and repair the damaged nerves before it becomes a permanent ailment if you wish to do so." Corbin stops for a second then continues. "Of course, we'd have to wait for you to become physically able, and completely healed elsewhere physically before the operation."

"So exactly how long would that take to wait?" Derek asked. His arms were crossed and he was calm.

"Approximately a few weeks, considering he's gonna need the stitches out, and for the scar to heal. We want to limit any susceptibility to his body with another operation because his immune system is weak, so we try to limit the amount of exposure. I'll leave it with you to two think about it." Corbin ends his discussion before giving Stiles another dose of pain medications that made him drowsy and left with the nurse to do rounds.

Derek sat back down, folding his hands, watching Stiles' eyelids droop.

"I'm scared," was all Stiles could manage to say. Only short choppy sentences could be formed in his head.

"I know. I am too." Derek said, Stiles' eyes coming to a close. "But when you wake up, you're dad's gonna be here. Your best friends are gonna be here."

"You'll be right here?" Stiles whispered, for Derek was the only remote person who he could trust, and he was still a stranger to him.

"Right here Stiles."

And as Stiles dozed off into a worry free haze, Derek picked up his wedding band that lied on the beside table. He looked at his beloved, the love of his life as his hair fell against his sweaty forehead, and at the way his nose scrunched every now and then, and at the way sometimes his chest rapidly rose and fell before calming down. This was Stiles Stilinski, human, best friend to werewolf, husband to an alpha. And Derek had promised to keep him safe.

"I'll be right here."

Derek looked at the ring, the inner inscription was still clear.

 _Pack_.


	5. Relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another update! Thanks loves for the comments and kudos, I really appreciate it :)

It was 9 at night when there was a knock on the door, waking Stiles and Derek, who had fallen asleep himself.

 

A man, unrecognizable to Stiles, walked in with a friendly smile. 

Derek welcomed him in. 

"Sheriff."

"Hi Derek-" Noah greeted, his eyes however fell toward Stiles. And Stiles felt so guilty, he knows this man knows who he is, and he knows he's important but he just can't remember anything.

Derek stood up, rubbing at his eyes. "Stiles- this is your father," he pointed out.

Shit.

Noah smiled gently, "or you can call me Noah. Whatever you prefer." 

There was a long awkward silence before Stiles reminded himself to say hello back. 

"I can't stay long kid, I'm sorry. You don't realize how much I missed you." Noah chuckled as he talked, "oh god I know this is weird for you." The older man's blue eyes shined clearly and stood out to Stiles, noticing that he doesn't really look like him. Noah's hands were anxiously twisted in his jacket pockets. "I'll let you get some rest. I'll see you in like.. two days?" 

Stiles nodded, smiling back at the unknown face.

"Derek can I uh.. talk to you for a second?"

Immediately they took it outside in the hall. Derek was about to burst into tears. Alpha werewolf my ass.

"He couldn't even recognize himself this morning." 

"No, no, no it's okay." Noah comforted him, wrapping his arms around Derek just as he did a month ago. He didn't let go for a good few seconds, allowing Derek to regain his masculinity back. "We're gonna take this one day at a time okay? Look at me- he's gonna be fine," Noah smiled, "he's gonna wake up one morning and know exactly who the hell you are. Don't worry." 

Derek smiled, blushing as he rubbed his eyes.

 _Get the fuck together Derek, the hell's wrong with you? Everyone's staring at a grown ass man in the hall crying like a bitch_. His own voice taunted him in his head. 

"I gotta go- and I know this is was so damn quick- too quick, but I literally left a body on the highway at the scene to come here," Noah rubbed his face in exhaustion. 

"You need some rest." Derek insisted.

"By that logic, you need to go home and shower. And I need a new job." They found themselves chuckling in the hospital. 

"Alright- duty calls, I gotta go answer unfortunately. Take care, and I'll be here on uh.. Monday?"

"Today's Saturday?" Derek low-key forgot to keep track of necessities.

"Oh my god- Go home Derek," Noah chuckled before bidding farewell to Stiles. "Hey kid- have a good night."

Derek walked back in to find Stiles is almost asleep once again. "Stiles, I gotta go home.. gotta freshen up. I'll come back in the early in morning, is that okay?"

"He...didn't wanna.. stay." Stiles solemnly said, each word become less literate then the first. 

"He works a full day, and lives about three hours away in beacon hills. He gave up a lot to come here." Derek explained, drawing a sad face when he realized Stiles actually cared, regardless of knowing who he was or not. "He loves you. A lot. As much as I do. He wished he could stay longer. He'll be back. Now, I've gotta go. Okay?" 

"Mm'...c'me back.. early.." Stiles slurred before falling prey to tiredness. Derek smiled to himself.

"Good night Stiles."

"Night."

~・○ ~・○ ~・○ ~

Derek came back early the next morning. Just like he promised. This time, he didn't smell like musk and stress, but a fresh coconut scent that lurked in his hair from the shampoo. He was clean, and worry-free. Derek Hale was feeling good today. 

He crept into the room to find Stiles sleeping still. He wanted so bad to give him his usual morning kiss he had while he was in the coma. He wanted so bad to hold his hand, but that he did. He didn't full on hold it, just gently layered his hand on top of Stiles' long fingers, where his IV sat. Just enough to take away some of the pain. Derek smiled, analyzing Stiles' appearance once again. His hair was getting long then used to keep it, but he liked it. It gave Derek more to run through his fingers. The scars on his chest still made him nervous, bringing him back to that day when everything was painted red with Stiles' blood. The stitches ran across his skin made him feel reassured however, for it showed signs of help, and recovery. 

Stiles is a survivor. 

Meanwhile, Stiles' brain was making it very hard for him to relax. He was having a dream, or a nightmare possibly. Stiles didn't know where he was, but he was in the woods. And there was another boy, around his age over there with him. There was a crackle, and snap and a swish in the crunching leaves on the ground. It was in the deep of the night and Stiles could feel goosebumps on his arms, flashlight in hand. 

"Stiles!" The other boy yellled, inhaler pressed up against his mouth when he had trouble breathing. "Wait up!" His hair bounced in a certain way when he ran behind Stiles. And Stiles? Well it seemed like he knew exactly where he was going. They heard another noise, as if it was following them with another crack, crunch and swish and- 

"Stiles." Derek broke his sleep, abruptly waking up the young man. "Sorry I startled you. You're heart was beating really fast but.. Good morning."

Stiles smacked his lips, confused on the what the hell just happened, "mm.. 'morning."

"Are you feeling okay?"

Stiles nodded weakly, his eyelids half closed. "It hurts."

"What hurts?"

"I don't know. Everything?"

"I know.." Derek comforted him, reaching out to trace his knuckles with his hands again, covering it with his other hand so Stiles couldn't see the wretched painful black veins pulling in. Suddenly though, Stiles started to chuckle impishly.

"What?" Derek was just oh so curious, half expecting a monkey to jump out at him, but he reminded himself that Stiles wasn't up to pulling pranks currently.

"Derek guess what."

"What? You're hopped up on dozens of drugs right now you know." He became anxious that this was a serious thing.

"I gotta go to la baño."

"Oh my god." Derek was going to face palm. "You don't remember anything important, yet you remember high school Spanish?"

"No I'm serious." Stiles started to chuckle. "I'm screwed."

"Stiles you're on bed rest, you're not supposed to move. Plus your leg-" Derek debated. "Why don't we get a nurse to help you with the bathroom?"

"I don't like the nurse- she doesn't like me. It's a mutual thing.... pleeeeeeease. You're the only one I trust."

Derek sighed.

"Alright.." Derek thought about how the nurse came in the other day, and placed a folded wheel chair in the big closet and went there first. He pulled it out. "What about your IV? And the heart monitors? And how are you gonna do it with one arm and a leg?" Derek stared at all the wires sticking to Stiles. This is a nightmare.

"Forget it I'll hold it. I didn't really _have_ to go anyways."

Derek glared at him before he started to chuckle and grabbed a backpack and a briefcase he brought with him. "I brought some of your t-shirts in case you wanted to change at anytime."

"Oh yeah- I'm kinda jealous, you live the shirt-present life." Stiles looked down at his bare chest that was half covered with wires and stitches, and bandages and pads. He watched as Derek hung them into the closet. 

"And your sweatpants, and boxers." Stiles felt a little embarrassed for him to have his briefs, forgetting for a second that they were actually married.

"You have a very magical bag. Where does one purchase such a contraption?" Stiles babbled to himself.

"I brought some other stuff." Derek dug around and pulled out a thick envelope. "I thought these might be nice to look at. Maybe jog your memory." Derek pulled out a stack of photos and handed them to Stiles.

He looked at the first one. It was a sweet picture of kid Stiles sitting next to his mother on the hospital bed.

"That was your mom. And that's you." Derek pointed. "Sweet lady. My father went to school with her I think. Your father and her- Highschool sweet hearts." Derek smiled sympathetically. He remember the day he found Stiles crying at the kitchen table because he was trying to get the wedding's guest list together, but his mother wasn't on. His mother never got to witness their love, and Derek shared this void. But it was different. Derek- well Derek has always been a lone wolf. His entire life even with his family, and the fire had wiped them all away within one day. But Stiles, he watched his mother cripple and die in front of his eyes his entire childhood. 

"Was?" Stiles whispered.

"She passed when you were eight." He looked into his eyes, "she had frontotemporal dementia, and she fought for ten years. She was a fighter. Just like you are." He watched Stiles' eyes slightly water, as he forced a fake smile. Derek felt incredibly guilty so he showed him another picture. 

It was a picture of him with Scott, Malia, and Lydia at school in the senior year.

"That's Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, and Malia Tate- er Hale. I don't know, it's a tricky situation."

"You're a Hale. Are you related?"

"No. Yes. Well- you see I have an Uncle Peter, and Cora. They're all I had left. And Peter had a baby with another woman, thus Malia being born.. but she was- put up for adoption for lack of a better term.. and a man, Mr. Tate, adopted her. She identifies as a Tate. Never a Hale." Derek had explained. He tried to dodge the whole serial-killer-desert-wolf-slash-were-coyote-slash-car-crash-inducing-situation.  
He froze, Stiles' eyes became fixed on his former best friend. 

"Wait.."

"Hmm?"

"Who's this again?" He points out to Scott McCall.

"That's Scott McCall. He was your best friend. Or is, actually."

"I.. i recognize him."

"You do?" Derek jumped, stunned.

"I'm pretty sure- I feel like I saw him somewhere, like in a dream. That was him." Stiles explained.

"Stiles-" Derek started, leaning in, "what else did you see in the dream?"

"I don't really know, we.. we were in the woods and I was looking for something with him, before we heard something that was following us.  
I remember, he must've been asthmatic or something because he had an inhaler. Does that sound like him?"

Derek sat up, chills went down his spine. 

Stiles had remembered the very first night of all started. If he could remember that, eventually the worse memories are gonna come. The plagued, tarnished, poisoned memories. He pulled the photo away from his weak grasp of his left hand.

"What? Does that mean anything?"

Derek stuttered. "N-no.. I don't know."

"Oh. Must've been coincidental then."

"Yeah- and he's been around while you were out so I mean.."

"Yeah."

Derek decided to stop, knowing that this was doing more harm then good.

"Wait, I wanna see one more at least."

"Okay." Derek pulled out his favorite picture of all time. It was sweet moment between him and Stiles, who was his fiancé at the time. They were back at the Hale household, that house that was still burnt to a crisp, and the only reason why Derek was there was because Stiles had finally convinced him to start fixing it up. They looked like your average guys here, no fangs, no claws, just Derek's award winning smile and Stiles' laughter-filled grin. Stiles' hands were stuffed in that red hoodie of his, Derek's arm was around Stiles' body. It was a quite simple picture, but it represented so much to Derek. It represented change, and hope. It represented love. "That was my childhood home. There was a fire. Everyone died, except for three of us. It's stood there for years, and you finally got me to start thinking about fixing it up. Even though it's 99 percent ash and 1 percent house. Later, I find out you planted some blue carnations, because you wanted to make it pretty. It was really.." Derek sighed with content, "really something special."

"I'm sorry-" Stiles apologized for his family, or at least that's what he thought it was for.

"For what?"

And then Stiles started to cry, covering his eyes with his one free hand as his body ached. He hurt too much to be crying.  
"For not remembering anything." He had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and suddenly twenty-five gallons of water overfilled his throat. His quiet sobs started to become painful shudders and shallow, "I don't know my dad, I don't know my best friends, hell I don't even know who I married!" Stiles slipped into a mini anxiety attack. His nose and cheeks were flushed red, his lips were pulsing along with the beat of his heart. Oxygen and breath seemed so rare and so hard to get.

"No, no, no,- it's okay, hey it's okay," Derek almost cried as he tried to reassure him, recognizing the debilitating panic. Stiles couldn't breathe- he was _sure_ that if he didn't die in the crash, it was just to die now. "Relax, relax-" Derek nervously stumbled. It was different now, he can't give him a hug or a kiss on the forehead or stroke the small of his palm with thumb the way he likes, because _he doesn't know that's what he likes_. "Stiles it's okay, it's okay Stiles, it's not your fault." Derek tried to speak as his attempts for breath became violent gasps. By the time nurses came rushing in, curious as to why his heart monitor was acting up, Stiles' hand was desperately clutching onto the bed sheets and squeezed his eyes shut. The amount of pain was too much to describe in words. He started to feel faint and swore that he saw stars floating around.

The nurses repositioned the bed so that he was upright and pressed an oxygen mask to his mouth as Corbin came in. He checked his vitals and all but his blood pressure seemed right, "Stiles- it's okay, you're fine," He applied the blood pressure cuff onto his arm again, despite that he was visibly shaking in nervousness. "Drop in blood pressure, from 100 systolic over 70 diastolic to 70 over 60. He's running a fever of 103.4. Looks like some sort of panic attack, his heart and lungs are healed enough for it to be something else." He read off to the nurse, noticing Stiles' eyes start to drop after he had opened them in confusion. The nurse applied two cooling pads as she rubbed his chest. "Stiles stay with us here, you're doing great." Corbin reassured him as Derek watched in concern. Stiles' head lolled to the side as he passed out. "Hey Stiles, Stiles buddy," Corbin tapped on his chest. "He's out."

"He fainted? You can't faint with a panic attack I know-"

"He's had these before?" 

Derek nodded.

"It was syncope. Stiles' body took too much damage, so his normal blood pressure dropped to a lower range that stays constant now, and it dropped even further somehow, and because of it he lost consciousness. It happens in extreme cases of severe attacks." Corbin explained as the nurse repositioned the bed comfortably for the patient who relied on the oxygen mask to breathe. "Hmm.. any ideas as to exactly what caused it?"

"I was showing him pictures- of everyone. A-and he started to apologize for not remembering anything and then-" That feeling of immense guilt showed on Derek's face.

"Derek it's okay, I know you were trying to help. But, just try to reduce his anxiety, not make him feel pressured into doing anything. It has to come naturally." He prepared a needle. "You said he's had these attacks prior?"

"Ever since he was a kid."

"Huh." Corbin clicked his tongue. I don't see anything of it in his medical records. I checked about the FTD- dementia and that came back negative, no signs of symptoms, but nothing was written of any mental issues." Corbin said, inserting the syringe into a bottle as the nurse continued to try to get his body temperature down. 

"He never went to talk about it." The alpha said solemnly. "He didn't think it was a problem."

"I'd recommend him to other professionals for it, it's not something he should ignore. It can conflict his daily life." The doctor loaded the sterile drug into the IV tubes, allowing it to flush into Stiles' system. 

"What are you giving him?"

"A few milligrams of diazepam. I usually wouldn't give it on short notice, but considering the amount of stress the syncope puts on his body it's crucial to decrease the condition." Corbin checked his vitals again as everything started to return to normal. "Stiles, can you open your eyes for us?"

Eventually, he woke up a few seconds later, feeling drowsy and awful, with tear stains on his cheeks and pulsing lips again, however that feeling of death was no longer present, just exhaustion. "Can you hear me bud?"

Stiles nodded.

"You had a panic attack and you fainted, okay? But you're doing good now, you're fine. I gave you some more medicine to help you so you're gonna feel extremely tired for a few hours, but it's gonna help. Alright?" 

Stiles nodded again, rubbing his hand over his face. He tried not to look at Derek, remembering how he lost control in front of the older man and cried like a freaking baby.

"Does anything feel weird- abnormal? Or hurt at all?" Corbin asked, sending the nurses out. 

Stiles cleared his throat, taking in the surroundings once again as if he just woke up, but he shook his head.

"Mr. Stilinski, I commend your incredibly high tolerance for pain buts it best for us if we know what hurts and what doesn't, even if it's the slightest pain."

Stiles couldn't focus, and all he wanted to do was sleep, but he did have that jabbing feeling in his arm, and he could fee a migraine coming on so he told the doctor, who recorded his symptoms before leaving Stiles alone with Derek.

Derek once again sat down and pulled his chair closer, as he did every day for the last month. He watched Stiles close his eyes as he succumbed to pressuring need of sleep. And when Derek went to put his hand on top of Stiles', the patient retracted his hand from underneath Derek's. But this time it was only for Stiles to wrap his fingers into his husbands and interlocked with them.

"I'm sorry." Stiles whispered. "For that."

"Don't apologize." 

Stiles stopped and thought for a second before continuing, his eyes were still close but he had a slight grin on his face. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Do that. Every time I let go of you- it hurts more." Stiles referred to the hand holding, without realizing the supernatural feats.

"That's because I love you. And if you don't love me anymore- then that's okay." Derek almost stabbed himself in the heart, but he needed to say it.

"I'll learn to love you." Stiles voice was getting weak, but calmer and more relaxed. The drugs were working.

Derek held onto his hand tighter now, slightly chuckling. "Every day while you were out.. I went down to the gift shop.. there's a sweet little lady who helped me find a flower. A blue carnation."

"Like...like the ones... next to 'yer.. h-house." Stiles' voice was trailing out. 

"I bought one everyday. And I put it in that vase over there, and I still buy one everyday. There's about 28 flowers total, about two weeks worth had wilted so I had to get rid of them." Derek finished off, knowing his plan of lulling him to sleep was working. 

"I like blue," was the last thing Stiles said before dozing off into a haze once again. 

"I know you do, baby." Derek smiled, still holding onto his hand and taking the pain, even when his fingers go limp.


	6. Survivor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for leaving kudos and comments, I appreciate. I apologize, find this chapter to be a little sloppy and otherwise rush, but I'll make up for it in the next chapter :) SORRY for a bunch of mistakes, I write these on my phone at night haha.

Derek had spent the rest of the morning trying to stay awake on coffee, wanting Stiles to wake up and be the first thing he sees. He had gotten a call from Scott, telling him that he and Malia, and Lydia were going to be there at the end of the week. He felt awful for Lydia, for she had been commissioned for an incredibly job opportunity up in New England, and Derek didn't want to ruin it for her so he told her to do it and then fly down, but she reused. Lydia loved Stiles just as much as Derek does for her to wait. It was a lot of money to be taking too many flights, and the entire gang has put their entire lives on hold. Thankfully, they got in good with Chris Argent, who had connections in the air flight cooperations and set them up with free flights. As for Sheriff Stilinski, well he's been playing this game since Stiles was sixteen. He's used to it. 

But as Derek stared at his love, it brought back miserable memories. It brought back the times of the nogitsune that destroyed Stiles' mental health, and tinged his heart with an everlasting dark hue. Derek listened in, Stiles' breath was shallow, but it was getting better, and his heart was steady. Perfectly calm.

He was on the phone with Noah, explaining the events that had happened prior, whilst Stiles' was taken for some testing down in the labs while he was asleep.  
"He had a panic attack.. he had a dream."

"Did he remember something?"

"The first night. The night it all started."

"What? That's- that's good news though!"

"Noah, if he remembers the first night... don't you think eventually he'll remember everything else? Even the bad stuff?"

"I see." Sheriff pressed his phone up to his ear against his shoulder. He was filling out some of his latest paperwork, same ol' same old. "Derek he's gonna find out, anyways. About everything. Nothing can ever stay hidden."

"But- wouldn't it be better if he just never knew about.. _all of it?_ No more anxiety attacks, no more crippling nightmares about it, no more fear that some awful monster is gonna kill him."

"I don't know about that son. Our experiences make us who we are. Stiles will never remember who he is if he isn't reminded of what he lived through." Sheriff sighed. 

Derek wanted to change the subject, so before ending the call he asked about how Noah was holding up, and how Beacon Hills was doing after their senior year departure. For the last year, Noah asked them to come down. And considering it's almost November, Derek thinks it's a possible thing. Maybe a trip down memory lane would be a good thing. Maybe a new fresh start would be good. Stiles was back in his room, and in the comfort of Derek after an hour or so of another run of a CT scan. Derek's thoughts were interrupted by Doctor Corbin knocking on the door and entering. Derek smiled sheepishly as Corbin smiled back, this time with a gentler expression then what Derek was used to seeing.

"Just checking in on Stiles." Corbin said, checking the monitors and played with the wires connected on his chest and pulled them off. Corbin quietly examined his chest. "I think it'd be good for when Stiles wakes up to talk about a future surgery. We've got to talk about complication in the tests. The earliest I can get him in for nerve repair procedure to reverse the temporary paralysis in the right leg, is tomorrow morning, at eight o'clock. We can remove his stitches tonight. This is the earliest we can do the procedure to reduce minimal scarring, and he's completely healed underneath strangely. Very quick recuperation time with the open wounds he accumulated, considering his body was in lock down mode." Derek listened to him. 

"I think we should do that. But we need Stiles to agree. He might be reluctant with another surgery." Derek reminded him.

"Of course, considering he can refuse if he'd like but that's never something to do."

"Okay, thank you." Derek smiled before Corbin left. Derek held onto Stiles' hand for a long period of time, staring at the markers of indication for wounds that were stitches. Slowly but surely, Stiles woke up again. 

"Hey."

Stiles cleared his throat, "hey."

Derek stroked Stiles' finger within their grasps, rubbing his thumb up and down ever-so-lovingly. He smiled at the fact that Stiles had already trusted him so much to the point where they were comfortable with doing so. 

"Your father called, he asked how you were doing." Derek told him.

Stiles smiled. "Is he coming?" 

"Tomorrow. I promise." Derek truly promised. "Oh that brings up another thing.. tomorrow- they wanna have the leg surgery.  
Tomorrow morning. And remove the stitches today."

Stiles' eyebrows rose. "Surgery?" He swallowed.

Derek held tighter onto Stiles' fingers. "I'll be right here every step of the way. They're gonna help you get better Stiles." He smiled. 

"Promise?"

"Promise." Derek promised. Again. "I'll find Doctor Corbin so he can speak to you about it. Derek went out into the hall, asking a nurse for Corbin to consult, and he appeared in the room ten minutes later, files and images in hand.

"You feeling better Stiles?" Corbin asked, examining the tests. They had done blood tests prior, just to see if it was safe to operate.

"A bit. Thanks."

"Alright then." Corbin smiled, "well Stiles, basically we can kill two birds with one stone within two days. Today, we can get your stitches out. As soon as you'd like actually. And then, we can pull you in for an operation to repair the nerve damage in the leg. But we don't exactly know what's going on." Corbin came closer to the patient, showing him the scans from the other day. "When we checked your reflexes, your left leg seemed fine. But in the imaging from today, it- it looks like there's a strain in the set of nerves over here. In both legs, the nerves are completely destroyed and torn from the impact of the crash." He pointed out to the set that connected his upper thigh over to his hip plate. "It's possible for further damage to have occurred without us noticing."

"So what does that mean?" Derek did that crossed-arm-slash- curious-slash-pissed thing he does. 

"There's a high chance Stiles lost mobility in his left leg as well."

 _"How the hell did that go unnoticed?"_ Derek calmly said, but with a tinge of stress and frustration had disconcerted his intentions. 

"Mr. Hale, nerves can repair themselves if not extremely damaged. As thought they would. Clearly it's a new fracture, or else we would caught it early." He explained as he clicked his pen, pulling the bed sheets from over Stiles' legs just to uncover them a bit. "Stiles, tell me if you can feel this." Corbin clicked the cap of the pen against his shin, several times.

"I-I can't." Stiles stuttered. "I don't feel anything." 

Corbin repeated his movement, slowly making his way up Stiles' thigh, right above his knee but below his boxers. 

Stiles shook his head, clearly in distraught. 

"It's okay." He saw Derek mouth the words to him.

"Try bending your knee, or move your ankle." 

Still nothing. Just as the days prior with testing his right leg, his left was the same. Corbin sighed condescendingly. "Just as I expected." He took down notes.

"But- you can fix it right? You can reverse the damage?"

"Stiles' nerves are an impeccable wreck, but we can certainly try to repair them. Still even then, we might not be able to reverse the paralysis." Corbin pulled the sheets back. "Have you felt any pain lately in the leg?"

"Kinda. It was like... a burning sensation?" Stiles admitted, suddenly feeling subpar for not telling Corbin about it when he asked. 

"I see." He examined the images again as Derek seriously contemplated his life. He doesn't know if he Stiles can handle anymore of this. "The procedure is very beneficial Stiles. Even if it doesn't reverse the paralysis it could potentially save your life, at least connecting the nerves back together again reduces the risk of a blood clot or a pulmonary embolism. If we do however restore your mobility, it could take months for you to regain feeling. Considering your circumstances, I think it's best if we operate as soon as we can. To limit the complications. The soonest we can do is at six, tonight, and then we can get the stitches out now." Corbin explained to the both of them. 

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand, who looked at him. 

"I'll do it." Stiles said.

Derek felt more pressure on his fingers as Stiles held on tightly as if he was going to fly away. "You sure?"

"Hundred percent." Stiles said confidently. 

"Excellent. I'll send in Dr. Niani in to get the stitches out, then we'll prep you at five thirty so we need Derek present to outline the procedure." The doctor started to pull at the monitors that were still capturing his every move. "We're just gonna remove this to make it easier to access the site. This might sting a little okay?" The older man started to pull at his injured left arm, causing an _immense_ amount of sheer pain. Stiles winced for a good two seconds, before they turned into groans of restlessness and painful stimulation as he attempted to pull of the layers of bandages that covered stitches. The sticky adhesive reluctantly plucked at the young man's skin.. Stiles clenched his teeth, groaning, as Derek held on tight to him. 

"I'm here, I'm here" Derek reminded him, waiting for the doctor to finish up with the physical torment. Stiles calmed down, letting out a shudder of relief. He kept the arm in the sling, but cleaned up around the sewn wound with an antiseptic to keep it clean. "Your shoulder is healing quite finely, it's just gonna feel extra sensitive as you can see." Corbin explained again as he finished up. "Alright. Well, I'll send in Dr. Niani when she's ready."

"Thank you." Derek gratefully said, still ticked about the misfortunate event. He sat down again, feeling melancholy for his husband.

"Nice. Completely paralyzed from the waist down." Stiles sarcastically said, his inner voice was still in tact.

"Well. Not completely." Derek snickered, trying to look at the bright side and received a smirk from Stiles. 

"It hurts like hell."

"I know." Derek whispered as he tried take some pain away.

"I'm scared."

"I am too." Derek whispered again. "But that's okay. It's natural," his voice resumed to a normal level. To think, all those hours of his day wasted on crying and downing a cup of black coffee that couldn't be too great for his health every morning, this brooding alpha has a heart of gold.

"Can you leave when the other doctor comes?" Stiles asked awkwardly, "I don't want you to see me crying."

Derek chuckled, "like hell I am. I promised- I'm staying. Right. Here."

Soon Doctor Niani, a woman with a dark complexion but a soothing, calm voice, has walked in, introduced herself, and proceeded on to make Stiles wince and cringe through the entire removal process. It didn't hurt, but it stung, and it made Stiles feel the way a mark burns after someone wasp snaps you with a rubber band. It was an agonizing, long ten minutes he endured without managing to throw up all over her as she placed cool, soothing bandages over the healed areas. "I'm done. See? That wasn't too bad." She smiled at Stiles, then turned to Derek. "Doctor Corbin will be in before the surgery to prep, meanwhile, Stiles isn't supposed to eat or drink starting from now until after the operation, and we're gonna stop the IV to pause the flow of the morphine and other drugs in his system. Okay?" Derek nodded as she released the needles in Stiles' hand that pierced his skin. He felt so relieved to have it out. He hates the squirming feeling it gave him inside his body. He definitely liked her better then Corbin. 

"Thank you."

Derek returned to his original place, hand in Stiles'. Stiles was looking down at his chest, long dark lines painted awful evidence of what he had been through. 

"They're so ugly-looking." Stiles frowned, pulling the bed sheets over his torso, but Derek stopped his hand halfway.

"No they aren't.. _You survived through a coma_ , you don't need to hide it."

"You sure you wanna do this?" Derek referred to the surgery.

"I need to. I kinda miss these bad boys." Stiles chuckled softly.

Soon, Derek was holding Stiles' hand as they wheeled him down the hall for surgery, until they wouldn't let Derek go in any farther. Derek would find himself in the waiting room, tensely tapping his foot as he waited for Stiles who was in the operating room. _"Just like any procedure, there's always possible complications._ " The reminder made Derek die on the inside, hoping his husband would be back fixed rather than broken. He played with the wedding band in between his fingers, another cup of coffee was on the armrest. Derek was starting to feel restless when minutes passed to the point where he fell asleep, not realizing that he has been so focused on taking care of Stiles that he forgot to care for himself. And when the nurse finally called him back in hours later, that Stiles was awake, Derek slugged off to be by his loved one's side. A new blue carnation had replaced the other in the vase, and there were more clothes stacked in the hospital closet, and even that stack of pictures had sat on the bedside drawer. 

Doctor Corbin was the first to break the silence. Stiles rasped, his throat feeling raw and dry before having a cold sip of water. It was the usual post-surgery talk, and it always went a little like:

"Mr. Stilinski, we don't know if you are going to regain feeling or not, but we've eliminated any threats to your health. We're going to schedule some physical therapy and encourage trying to walk around on it after the incisions heal in a few days. Whether mobility comes back depends on your exertion of stimulation and use. It will be a while until you have both functioning properly, but it can get better with proper training." 

Same ol', same old.

Just more scars for Stiles to add to the collection. 

"Does it hurt?" Derek asked.

"Not that bad." Stiles said, not really up for talking. 

Derek sighed. He wanted to say he missed him, and that he loved him. But he feared of rejection. They were just back at where they started. He moved his hands toward Stiles' leg, hoping for a reaction, but Stiles sadly shook his head. "It's not even worth trying." Stone cold, stiles' words were, hitting Derek hard in the chest like a cannonball.

"The other day-" Derek started, "you asked me what you were like. And what I was like."

"I know what you're like now. You're funny, and, sweet, and caring, and I also think you hate Corbin. And you take life the way you take your coffee, in one sip. You don't stop. And you can be really defensive for people you care about. And the way you hold my hand, like I'm a ballon threatening to fly away, shows you care too much because you don't wanna lose. And I know you hate crying in front of people." Stiles admitted, he's been analyzing his personality for the last few days, to the way he rubs his hand over his face when he's upset, or the way he coughs over a break in his voice when he's about to cry. 

Derek smiled and he cheeks flushed a rosy red. "For someone who's been asleep for half of the time, you're pretty attentive."

"Hey man, I get bored." Stiles smiled, his dimples showing through the tiniest bit of stubble he's acquired. Derek wanted to kiss him, fully on the lips, he wanted the feeling of Stiles' nose pressing against his as he did that thing where he cups his face. 

"Well- you're pretty good at doing that. You worked for the FBI for a while as an agent. You stopped when you started to do some criminal profiling."

"I'm badass?" Stiles laughed at himself, indulging in his lean, now muscle-lacking body.

"Very."

"Why'd I stop?"

"You saw how your dad lived. In constant danger. You lived your whole life in danger, and you didn't want that to continue. You didn't want to leave me, and you wanted kids." Derek sentimentally replayed it in his mind. "Your father supported your choice, but he fought with you effortlessly to change majors in college, he was worried, but knew you were in good hands because you worked with Scott's dad, Agent McCall. But you put that life on hold when we settled in an apartment together. You still work in the FBI, just a different job." Derek was smiling towards the entire thing. Stiles had gone from this 152 pounds of fragile bones and pale skin, to an FBI correspondent. 

"I can't wait to get back to that. And everything else, and everyone else."

"Everyone misses you." Derek reminded him. 

"I miss everyone."

"Do you even know who I'm referring to?" Derek chuckled.

"Not quite, but I still miss them." Stiles smiled.

It was at that moment where Derek had finally find the man he married. He found the self-less, forever loving human being who he had fallen in love with several years. 

"I'm so tired, and I've slept for more hours then I can count." Stiles counted on his fingers.

"You're basically a cat."

Stiles burst out in laughter, " _I'm basically a cat_ ," he reiterated, holding up his hand and rubbed his eyes in glee. 

"But you're more of a dog person." Derek reminded him.

"I fucking knew it. First item on the agenda- get a puppy and name him Colby."

"Colby? That's a cute name." Derek smiled, trying to keep him from breaking his sleep and dozing off again for like the third time that day. The bags under his eyes were starting to form.

"And then if I have a kid- a boy I'm hoping, I'm gonna name him Noah. I'm gonna teach him how to play baseball."

Derek perked up. "Noah? Any particular reason?"

"No.. I just like it. It's classy, and it's home-y. Whenever you hear it, you immediately picture someone. With the exception of myself. There's nothing in my noggin currently." Stiles explained as he ran his fingers through his hair to get the strands that stuck on his forehead off.

"That's.. that's your father's name."

Stiles rose his eyebrow. "You've been talking to him a lot.. haven't you? I must've heard it."

"No, no I never made a phone call in the room. The baseball thing- we talked about. But this.. That was- that's purely your thought Stiles."

Stiles' mopey grin turned into an excited smile. "I.. It was? I can put a name to a face? My dads gonna be so happy." His dimples showed again as Derek took in Stiles' radiant joy. He looked at Stiles' beautiful smile. Derek figured that he didn't have to force memories on Stiles, but rather just let him speak them without realizing.

"Tell me something about you and I."

"Well." Derek smiled. "You were the kind of person who silently corrected people who say, 'you and me' instead of 'I.' I was the kind of person who didn't care enough to say 'I.'" Derek said, remembering his leather jacket phase. "You wore flannels. I wore a leather jacket." 

Stiles' mouth gaped. "Were you a biker?" He joked.

"Not quite, but they were afraid of me. You on the other hand, you _still_ wear flannels and converse sneakers, it's just balanced out with an occasional dress shirt." Derek stifled his laughter.

"There's nothing wrong with a man and a good flannel Derek." Stiles slyly retaliated.

"You look good in them. I wasn't complaining... you were a goofball, spastic high sophomore when I first met you."

"Let me guess- you were the big, bad, brooding wolf blowing everyone's house down!" Stiles was insanely close to the real life situations.

"Okay just because I wore a leather jacket doesn't mean-"

"You were."

"Just a bit." Derek stroked his thumb up and down on Stiles' hand, "I was an accused criminal. I never actually did anything illegal, but got thrown in jail because of you. Not to point fingers or anything."

"Ohmygod did we-"

" _No Stiles!_ " Derek's eyes widened before laughing hard, "don't jump to conclusions like that, you scare the hell out of me."

"Hey it could've happened and you're just not telling me."

"No I swear," Derek was sure he was crying of laughter currently. "It was- you and Scott were snooping around like you always did and thought I was a murderer because I always hung around our house in the woods."

"OKAY well in my defense- probably- actually, I am blanking. I have no valid excuse. On the bright side you met me though," Stiles did that double pistols finger thing as if he had just made the joke of the century. 

"That is true. And I can't be thankful enough." Derek watched Stiles' eyes ease up in satisfaction. "The day of the crash-" he hesitated, but continued on. "I was crying at the steering wheel. I didn't know what was going to happen, you weren't answering your phone and I just- I knew it. And to be right here, by your side, alive, i consider myself the luckiest man in the world." Derek's eyes had gotten teary, his voice cracking by the end of the sentence. He covered up his tears when he buried his face into the sleeve against his elbow. And it was at that moment where everything started to click. Stiles saw a man, who poured his entire heart out for him, a man so badly damaged that even crying was embarrassing for him. Stiles tried to comfort him, but he didn't know how. Stiles knew this- this man he loved, was very important to him. Stiles knew how it felt to love Derek Hale. He just didn't know how to be quite sure of it yet. So, Stiles twisted over and pulled his arms around Derek, holding him tightly and laid his head on his shoulder. 

"I seriously lucked out with you Derek." Stiles was smiling over his shoulder. He couldn't imagine anyone else being so caring, so self-involved all this time like Derek had.

They pulled away, and turned their emotions clenched up into a tight intertwining of fingers in a handhold. Stiles had started getting tired quicker, the drugs started to kick in once again like they had been doing so the last few days.

"Tell me a good night story."

Derek cleared his thirst and rubbed his wet cheek with his shirt. "I'll tell you of two girls. They're your best friends too. Malia Hale, she was.. spunky. She had a fire in her stomach, an animal instinct. When you were in the junior year, you got really... sick." He paused, trying to run around the whole Void-Stiles concept. "You met her, and before you knew it you were the closest thing she had to a family. She wasn't great at school. But she was brave and courageous, and you loved her. You were her anchor, you kept her grounded."

"She's related to you, right?"

"Yeah. And one of her only other friends was Lydia Martin." Derek continued on again. "God you pined for this girl. You always talked about how she'd win a Fields Medal for solving some insane mathematical theorem. I had known her otherwise, her grandmother knew my mother, but never realized I would become so close to her. She's a genius, she went to MIT and started as a junior. She was so intelligent, and had passion, and she just had these skills. It was like she was psychic. Or something. She was something." Derek could see Stiles smiling, before he finally fell asleep. 

Derek sat back in the chair, content with the progress they've made, physically and mentally, and in their relationship. 

Finally. What seemed like a year long day had finally ended.


	7. Anchor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear! So sorry for the long wait for an update. I feel as if the ending is rushed, but I was content enough with it to post. Also I apologize for the extreme abundant amount of errors, this is unbeta'd and written at 1 A.M.  
> Writers block will be the death of me. I appreciate all the thought stuff and kudos!

The next morning, Stiles woke up in sheer pain, enough to make him so unstable that he violently threw up into a bed pan. Derek was there to aid him and held his forehead and hair back when he retched, producing a bile aroma that made Derek scrunch his nose. He was breathing hard, incredibly hard and shallow. There was a pain in Stiles' head from a migraine that drilled through his entire body and it made every muscle ache and cramp, or every muscle he could feel at least. He vomited repeatedly within two minutes, enough to make him exhausted and slump back trying to catch his breath. Derek used a small hand towel dampened with water and wiped down the corners of his mouth. The younger man was practically sweating in his own bile as his hospital gown was now impure.

"Stiles what hurts?" Derek asked in concerned, but could barely get an actual response as Stiles held his shoulder.

"My... m'shoulder- hurts.. like hell." He winced, trying not to put pressure on it as he threw up once again, unable to hold it down. 

"It's okay, you're okay.." Derek whispered when he realized that this was offset but an empty stomach clashing with pain. Nothing too serious. But what about his shoulder? Derek disposed of the wretched fumes and cleaned Stiles up, making sure to change the bed sheets and swapped it out for a new one. He took a shirt and sweatpants out and tried to talk to a disoriented Stiles. 

"C'mon, put your arms up. Please." He asked, watching Stiles murmur with a groan in return. Derek pulled off the rank hospital gown when Stiles was too out of it to even try. Derek put his head through the neck hole and maneuvered his way through his arms. Stiles refused to move it, but Derek had gotten it on without hurting his shoulder any further. He then pulled out the sweatpants and carefully forced its way up Stiles' legs, trying not to hit the incisions on either hip and finally, the waistband had reached his stomach. Derek repositioned his pillows, babying Stiles too much for his liking, but he thanked him generously anyways. 

Derek had found the sling that Stiles had wanted off so desperately, but apparently missed it. He tucked in his arm and put the strap around his neck comfortably.

"Does this feel better?"

"Thank you." Stiles sighed in relief.

Derek called in a nurse for assistance, and next thing they know is Derek's holding onto Stiles' for his life as he yells and groans, writhing on the bed as a doctor gives him a cortisol shot. It surged through his muscle tissue and then he felt the needle physically touch his bone, but then, _ah..._ a moment of relief when it was pulled out and replaced with a bandage. The doctors left as Derek tried to comfort his husband. 

"You're okay," Derek reassured him when Stiles' eyes watered. "I'm gonna see if I can grab you something okay?. You're throwing up because you haven't eaten at all and you're weak. Technically, the doctor said you're not really supposed to eat solids or what have you until a few days after surgery.. but you haven't eaten well in like. A month. So soup should be okay?" He asked for approval.

Stiles nodded his head, waiting for his return. 

Derek had made his way to the cafeteria and brought back some liquid-y, chicken broth soup.. and a visitor.

Derek stopped at the doorway with a familiar face. 

The sheriff.

"Good morning." Noah said. Derek put a bowl of soup on the bedside table. Noah crept up slower as he watched Stiles' eyes try to focus in. Noah sat down next to him. 

_It was so awkward._ It was so awkward for Stiles to not being blabbing all the time, and to not recognize his own hero. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay." He muttered. Sheriff Stilinski glared at Derek solemnly. 

"I'll uh.. leave you two alone." Derek retreated out into hall, using the time to update Scott and his friends, and Melissa and Argent who constantly rang.

"Well.." Noah started. "I guess I should introduce myself." He looked into his son's eyes, but they looked distant. "I'm Noah Stilinski. Your father." He held out his hand and received a confused handshake from Stiles who was thinking, " _I just shook hands with my dad?_ " it was a weak, boney grasp too, wasn't even a manly handshake on Stiles' part.

"I'm 58, uh..." he stuttered, "oh I'm the Beacon Hills County Sheriff. Um.. yeah." Noah started to chuckle.

"Hi Dad."

"Hi Stiles." Noah sighed. "Jesus- I'm sorry this is so weird for you son."

"It's not- I'm fine. I don't really have any other plans so if you just wanna talk, I kinda wanted to.."

Noah smiled. "You know, that's just like you."

Stiles perked up.

"You were always so selfless, but so caring. You always wanted everyone happy, never having to go through anything." His father recounted the number of times Stiles had done something for himself, not anyone else. He could count on one hand. Stiles had basically spent his life helping others without caring for himself first, and this time it showed. "You were always so.. compassionate. Even as a kid."

"What was it like.. home?"

"Beacon Hills?"

Stiles nodded.

"Well.." The sheriff struggled to answer the question. "There isn't really a way to describe it. It's ethereal. It has a weird vibe to it. Lately it's been calm, but when you were a teenager running around in that jeep of yours, oh man. That was a different time. Besides that I mean- well we never really were at our house ever. You were always with Scott, you guys were literally glued to your asses together." He heard Stiles softly chuckling. "I'm serious!" Soon both of them were laughing light-heartedly. "You were such a smart kid, just a little too preoccupied with other distractions, and you had ADHD on top of it, so you never could sit down in a chair without causing trouble every five minutes." The sheriff smiled.

"I have ADHD?" Stiles didn't believe it, considering the thought of moving any limb made him want to throw up.

"Yeah.. but it's controlled, it's not too bad. Only a few days in the year are unbearable, but Derek's got you." Noah went out to reach Stiles' hand, but it had stopped half way on the bed because he was afraid Stiles was going to reject him. However, the young man's hands creeped up, gently placing them around his father's as he looked at him and smiled. 

"You know it's not as bad."

"What's not?"

"This. Everything- I mean like the entire situation. I thought- I thought... actually I don't know _what _I thought to be honest, but everyone's been so nice and helpful and especially Derek."__

__The sheriff grinned, "I'm glad to hear that Stiles."_ _

__"Me too."_ _

__The two had talked for quite some time, going into depth about Stiles' childhood when something had reminded Noah of it. They had gotten up to the story when Stiles was five years old, and had to be taken to the emergency room because he stuffed Legos up his nose, only to do it again the next day. He told him of the time Stiles broke his arm trying to jump from the tree in their backyard onto the trampoline, just like that spy in the movie his dad told him not to watch. But of course he did anyways. He's Stiles._ _

__"Once- this time, we had gone to the beach and brought along Scott, and you guys were looking for seashells and sea glass. And when you came back, you had a bucket full that was so heavy when I tried to pick it up. I had only seen the top of it was filled with seashells, knowing that's what you guys were looking for. Fast forward a few hours and I've got a huge horseshoe crab snapping at my face for a good twenty minutes." The sheriff rubbed at his eyes in laughter. "I still don't know how the hell you two did it. And then- another time, you were in kindergarten, and I had gotten a phone call to come pick you up from school because you had gotten into a fight with another girl."_ _

__"With a girl? I had no class." Stiles kidded._ _

__"In your defense, she said Spider-Man and Batman weren't real superheroes like Superman."_ _

__"Ah. The inevitable forbidden phrase in English tongue. I should sue. Proceed."_ _

__"I had gotten to the principals office and found two kids completely covered in glitter; one of them being my own. And when I say covered, I mean _drenched_ , just drenched from head to toe in pink glitter. You had pushed her down into some glitter, so she threw an entire bottle back at you, thus creating the tumbling glitter twins!" _ _

__Stiles broke out in laughter to the point where the scratch on his cheek started to hurt. It was about two hours into a laughable conversation filled with "oh my god did I really do that?" Stiles couldn't stop smiling. To think, he had forgotten his father, his pride and joy, his hero, and he had become a stranger. Now, he hasn't fully remembered anything yet- but it's a work in progress._ _

__Noah looked down at the watch. "Oh jeez. I gotta get back home for work tonight."_ _

__Stiles let out a sigh of disappointment._ _

__"Oh no- I'll be back, as soon as I can son, I wouldn't miss seeing you for the world."_ _

__"I can live with that." Stiles smiled and accepted a hug from his father before he left. He sighed, content with the progress he made today so far. It made him very motivated to possibly try out the physical therapy?_ _

__Derek had come in. "Where the hell did you go? You were gone for like three hours." Stiles asked curiously._ _

__Derek smiled, holding up a blue carnation, plopping it down in the vase with the others. "I talked to to nurse. She said if you'd like we can go on a walk, maybe even started physical therapy today."_ _

__"Go on a walk?"_ _

__"Go on a stroll. We're gonna go meet with your physical therapist." Derek smiled, eyeing the wheel chair that sat across from him._ _

__"Wait- you mean get off of this bed? Dude that's awesome can we like go now, please?" Stiles glowed, excited to finally actually get off his ass and do something, for the first time in a month._ _

__Derek positioned his pillow perfectly. "Alright, but just drink the soup, you're probably really hungry."_ _

__"Eh." Stiles let out a hearty sigh. "I don't really feel anything. Must be the medication." Stiles started to dig in, but after two or three spoons his stopped. "There. Done. Let's goo-"_ _

__Derek crossed his arms. "Stiles."_ _

__" _¿Què?_ Stiles chuckled._ _

__"Eres un idiota, pero te amo." Derek smiled cheekily, knowing Stiles won't understand him._ _

__"Okay pero- that's, thats 'but' right? Damnit I forget everything else, oh- oh wait-" Stiles attempted the simple translation but failed. Seriously. Who can't match idiota to idiot?_ _

__"I said finish your soup." Derek tried to stifle his laughter to not spoil it._ _

__"I'm not hungry.." The patient pushed it away onto the bedside table and rubbed at his face, feeling the touch of his clammy skin._ _

__"Alright.." Derek gave in, there was no winning with the guy, that's why he carefully avoids arguments because he knows he'll lose to Stiles. Derek pulled off the sheets and detangled the wires from his husband. He pulled up the wheel chair up to the bed. "Uh.." Derek hesitated for a second, wondering how Stiles will do it. "Okay so if you just turn-"_ _

__"I got it." Stiles tried to hold up to his end of the bargain, attempting for a few good seconds to move his body very limply. His arms were too weak to carry his numb legs and he became extremely frustrated with everything and huffed loudly._ _

__"It's ok," Derek tried to get him to relax. "Look- okay just relax, let me help you." Derek smiled, but he saw Stiles' eyes that darted around the room and looked at everything but Derek. He was too embarrassed and sheepish to stop him or do anything about it. Derek gently scooped his legs and wrapped his other arm around his back and across to his chest, trying not to apply too much pressure. He softly placed his light body onto the chair, making sure he was comfortable and covered Stiles' legs with a blanket. Stiles smiled when he realized Derek had noticed that he had been looking at his awkwardly seeming legs. Derek was cleaning up some messily laid out clothes on the floor as he talked, "I know you wanna be independent, but you're gonna have to just step out of your comfort zone for a bit." He looked at Stiles. "You're gonna have a hard time doing tasks, like standing, moving around, going to the bathroom-" he continued, "but I'm gonna be there every step of the way." He wrapped his hands around the arms of the wheel chair and pushed themselves out of the room._ _

__"Ha! I get it- step, that was- that was great." Stiles murmured to himself, taking in all lengths of the unintentional pun._ _

__Derek listened to Stiles talking to himself, for he was unaware that he was the only one having a conversation. He was muttering something about how gross that soup actually was. Derek cheerfully strolled on by in the hallway, receiving greetings from all the nurses he's become friendly with over the days. Derek listened into Stiles conversation, curious as to what he was whispering about. The doctors told him his language might be odd, and that he might have lost his speech, but Stiles is up to his regular antics. But the younger man thoroughly took in the "scenic," stroll, ignoring the artificial scent of ammonia in the air, and the beeping had become so familiar that it no longer bothered him. And the crying babies or the painful screams no long phased him. IVs and weekly shots no longer created feelings of severe anxiety. Everything was.. normal now. They continued on until they passed through the wing that connected the two buildings. It was like those at airports, where it was a floor attached to glass windows and you're basically suspended in the air._ _

__"Stiles look-" Derek pointed out at the Los Angeles skyline with the sun shining through, "in case you forgot what LA looked like." Stiles' eyes followed the skyscrapers like a little kid, in awe of the sight._ _

__"Man, I forgot what the whole world looks like.." Stiles said. He didn't mean it as a sad thing, but he just said it in a way that crushed Derek's heart._ _

__"You will remember. Don't worry." Derek smiled and tried to continue on, pushing Stiles until they reach the rehabilitation and therapy center where they were greeted with a friendly man named Issa._ _

__"Hello- you're uh... Mr. Stilinski I presume?" The friendly man took a big gape at his first name on the clipboard._ _

__"I go by Stiles." He smiled. "And this is Derek.." Stiles hesitated for a second but then finished, "my husband." The alpha male had felt a rise in his heart beat as those words registered in his mind._ _

__Progress. We're making some progress here._ _

__"Hi, my name is Dr. Quentin, but you can call me Issa." The man was tall and brooding, but always wore a gentle smile, and had a hell of an Australian accent. Stiles could physically feel all the people in the world swooning over him as a matter of fact. He definitely looked like a personal trainer if not an Olympian. "I'll be your physical therapist so that we can get you back up and moving around."_ _

__Stiles looked around in the room, no one else was here. But it made him feel... safe? Is that the word?_ _

__"I know it may be barren in here, but we schedule times for our hospital patients to provide privacy and intimacy for you, so you won't ever feel judged or self conscious. Not that you should anyways." The man looked at the papers again, reading off his health records of the occurrences in the last month. "Hmm.. seems like you've had hell of a month buddy, but a hell of a recovery." Issa flashed a grin. "So you've had reconstructive surgery and a separate one a few days ago for nerve repair.. and you're already up and moving around? Gotta say, that's impressive. Usually we get people in two weeks tops, never heard of two days."_ _

__"I was just eager. It doesn't hurt much."_ _

__Issa nodded. "If you don't mind-" he referred to the blanket so Stiles took it off. "Can you show me the incisions on your hips?"_ _

__Stiles nodded and he lifted off the band of his sweatpants and rolled it down just enough to show him the scar, and the repeated it on the second side. "Alright.. thanks. Have you tried getting up at all?"_ _

__Stiles shook his head. "I still don't really have any feeling.."_ _

__"Alright, well for now, why don't we try some muscle exercises okay? So just extend your arms out in front of you and stretch forward, just enough to really feel it. Is anything sore?" He listened to Issa speak, and did just as he asked._ _

__"Y-yeah, it's kind of like a numbing sensation.."_ _

__"Bring your right arm up and then back, and pull your hand over to your right shoulder blade so that your elbow is up in the air." Issa commanded again, mirroring Stiles' movements. "That's most likely due to the excessive lack of movement since you've been bedridden for a good month, it'll take a while for your motor skills to sharpen and you might notice yourself tapping your fingers a lot, shaking, or even unconsciously cracking your knuckles. But we can easily work on that." The man watched Stiles perform the action, then proceeded to ask him about his other hand in the sling._ _

__"Does it still hurt?"_ _

__"Kinda. Like if I lay on it, it kills."_ _

__Derek spoke up, "they gave him a shot of cortisone this morning if that makes a difference."_ _

__Issa nodded. "Well- would you like to try moving it without the sling? Only if you are comfortable."_ _

__Stiles gave it some serious thought. "I uh.. okay. Yeah sure, why not?" He stuttered over his words._ _

__"Alright then, we're just gonna move it slightly out of this." Issa pulled the strap from around his neck, and carefully slid the sling away from his arm, Derek took it out of his way. Stiles winced slightly but fought through the bearable pain._ _

__"Alright Stiles, i want you to move your fingers around."_ _

__Stiles wiggled them._ _

__"Good job." Doctor Quentin said, babying Stiles just a wee bit. He took a small little stress ball from the table and held it up. It looked like a hacky-sack that Stiles had once in the freshman year that exploded in his algebra class. He couldn't remember for now, but Noah could tell you all about it; the first time Stiles had gotten in trouble in high school. _It was the fourth day of school._ "Just squeeze that for me as hard as you can." He laid it on Stiles' palm and watched him wrap his fingers weakly around it. Stiles could feel himself getting red from the embarrassment of being too weak to even squeeze a damn toy._ _

__"Stiles just relax. We're going on your own pace, and doing what you feel is comfortable. If you can't do it- then that's more than alright, we'll just keep working on it. Okay?"_ _

__Stiles nodded, letting out a sheepish "okay." He felt utterly useless, he felt like his limbs had no point and he was just a waste of human flesh and blood._ _

__"Let's keep practicing."_ _

__The patient and Dr. Quentin went at it for a full forty-five minutes. He had Stiles do multiple exercises from throwing a ball a few feet to writing his name with a trembling hand. I'm not saying he succeeded, but he made progress. At the end of the session, they both thanked Issa for his time, and he reminded them that they had other appointments everyday this week before they left._ _

__Stiles had confined himself to the solidarity and comfort that was the blanket as Derek pushed him in the wheel chair. He knows that the therapy is supposed to make him feel better, but it just makes him feel even worse about himself. He can't even freaking use his legs. He had two perfectly well functioning limbs and now they can't do shit. Stiles wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but his body wouldn't allow him to do that._ _

__"We should put that to wash- you've been using it forever." Derek said of the blanket._ _

__"No. I'm not letting go of it. You can pry it off my dead hands, Hale." Stiles spoke bitterly._ _

__"Oh? And why is that Mr. Stilinski?"_ _

__"Because." Stiles struggled to find a real answer. "Just because. I happen to like it. I have an infatuation for it's appealing color and texture that makes it superior and immaculate to all other blankets." But then Derek started to chuckle heartedly. "What? Don't laugh at me. I'm not crazy, I just really like this blanket."_ _

__"I'm not-" he was grinning hard, "I'm not laughing at you, it's just. At home you could never sleep without your pillow. I swear it was like you were married to instead. I mean that thing- it's been through a million washes in its lifetime ever since you were in high school." Derek thought about it for a second, "I don't know what it was about it that just made you feel so safe. Maybe it was because it reminded you of home when you left it."_ _

__"Must be a damn good pillow." Stiles' eyes averted out the windows again as they made it to that hall that featured the stunning LA skyline. "When do you think I'll get to go home?"_ _

__Derek stopped moving. The question had pierced him throbbingly in his head every single night since the accident. It could be a very long time before they could curl up again together in front of the fire. "That's.. that's a tough que-" Derek stopped himself as soon as he saw Stiles' life-dulled eyes in the reflection. It wouldn't hurt to give him a little hope. "Soon. Soon."_ _

__But a little light bulb had gone off in his head. It was a brilliant idea, but he doesn't know he could get the thumbs up from the doctors._ _

__They were in the hall the lead to their temporary home and Stiles had gotten tired of Derek pushing him around so he offered to try it out himself. He stroked the wheels forward with his hands, thinking he had gotten the hang of it, but then proceeded to repeatedly hit the wall of the door post. Stiles struggled for a few times, cursing in frustration when he had started to repeatedly crash and burn but with a faster pace, and this time it hurt more._ _

__"Damn it all to hell!" Stiles yelled out in angst, his face red from stress and embarrassment once again. _"I hate this fucking thing!"_ He threw up his hands in frustration and allowed Derek to help him as he swallowed his pride. Stiles noticed some nurses throwing glances at his way. _ _

__Nevertheless, they made it their way to Stiles' familiar room, with the same old aromatic artificial clad stench, with the same old uncomfortable chair that had provided scratch marks on the floor after all the moving Derek has done, and with the abundant change of clothes their closet occupied. It made Stiles upset. He had lost a month of his life and almost his body to a freaking wrong way driver._ _

__Derek eyed him, noting the change in his scent. The musk was overshadowed with misery and distraught. He embraced Stiles, who didn't even bother to fight him, and picked him up then gently placed him on the bed. Stiles quietly sighed, upset at himself for his little scene in the hall, even though it wasn't even that bad. He closed his eyes calmly as Derek pulled another blanket over his legs so he would get cold. Stiles sat silently and just stared at the empty wall in front of him as Derek sat down. Derek was gonna say something in the quiet, but he didn't want to make Stiles uncomfortable. Besides, Stiles had beat them anyways._ _

___"I hate this fucking wall."_ Stiles whispered. His hand turned into a fist. "I didn't-" he managed to chuckle, "it didn't even freaking provoke me. It's a freaking wall. I hate it. It's just - there. Painted white and.. it's just there I don't-"_ _

__Derek watched the miserable feelings of anxiety and frustration swallow his husband whole. From the talking to himself, to the self hatred towards himself and a wall for christ's sake. The restlessness was too much._ _

__Derek dug in his pocket for his wallet, and pulled out Stiles' wedding ring. He grabbed Stiles' hand and then he finally stopped talking._ _

__Derek took of his own ring and showed him the inscription engraved, it said "anchor," on it. "Stiles- remember when I told you I was going to help you with everything? How I don't mind having to help change, or make sure you aren't sleeping on your bad shoulder, or making sure that you always stay relaxed?"_ _

__"I'm babbling aren't I?" Stiles turned red again, allowing Derek to tug at his fingers._ _

__"Just a bit." He slipped Stiles' ring on onto his ring finger. "See mine? It says anchor on it. That's because you are my anchor. You keep me weighted down to earth. You keep me sane- Human. And I think it's my turn to be yours. And I think.." Derek started to smile when he realized Stiles' full attention is on him. "I think that we can do this. And that we will. And I will always love you no matter what happens."_ _

__"Give me ten things you don't hate about me." Stiles whispered. Stiles stared at the wedding band, admiring how it looked. And it felt.. familiar? That word on the inside of his band, "pack," it felt familiar?_ _

__The alpha chuckled. "That- Ten Things I Hate About You.. that was your favorite movie.. besides Star Wars of course." He noticed the corners of his husband's mouth turning into a grin. Stiles did that thing again, where he accidentally remembers something.  
Something small and in-cohesive albeit, but it's something._ _

__"So when I put this ring on, I promised- I vowed to love you forever. In sickness and in health. I vowed to-" Derek swore he didn't hear his voice break, "I vowed to keep you safe. Forever and always. And-" he spoke as his fingers trailed against the ring. "And I don't plan on breaking them. Okay? So- so can you just stay strong? For me?"_ _

__Stiles nodded, a tear hiding behind his eyes, mainly because he didn't know what else to say. "I promise."_ _

__Derek smiled and wiped away at his own tears. "I'll be right back.. I'm just gonna talk to the nurse real quick."_ _

__"Don't take too long." Stiles smiled as Derek got up and left, unaware that he was going to try to persuade the nurse into letting him go on with his plan._ _

__He was at the front desk talking to the head nurse and Corbin. He informed them of their encounter at the view of the city skyline earlier._ _

__"I was wondering.. so.. I don't know- I'm just going out on a limb here.." Derek spoke with charm and overly-handed gestures, possibly a trait he's inherited from spending too much time with Stiles. "Stiles is feeling a little homesick, uh- closed in? And I don't know I was thinking like.. we could just go on a short drive? Like just for a breath of fresh air- I think it'd do him good." Derek spewed word vomit, another trait acquired from  
Stiles, but the nurse had smiled relentlessly towards her authority figure. Corbin grinned._ _

__"You know Derek- I think that's a splendid idea." Doctor Corbin nodded his head in approval. "Just one request- I think we should just limit it to not more than half an hour out of the hospital.. considering this is pretty unorthodox- especially for the extent of injury he's got, but I think we can make an exception."_ _

__It only took Derek half a second to get back in that room with his mind contained, giddy as ever._ _

__"Stiles c'mon get up." Derek pulled over the wheel chair, desperately looking around for his briefcase and keys. His dark eyebrows furrowed in excitement as his ocean blue eyes seemed to glisten._ _

__"Wha'? Man, I literally was about to get some shuteye." Stiles stirred._ _

__"We're going on a road trip."_ _

__Stiles perked up. "Are you serious?"_ _

__"Yeah. I figured- maybe it could even jog some memories? As long as we get you back in one piece." Derek flashed his award-winning smile. Stiles watched his other half get all excited, going through all the extra trouble just to make him feel good._ _

__Soon, Stiles had found himself sitting in the front passenger seat of Derek's cammaro with the wheel chair tucked in the trunk behind. It wasn't long until they had gotten on the road in LA, making sure to hit every spot that Derek was fond of. Stiles was astounded by the amazing feats, but nothing had jogged his memory._ _

__Derek drove up to a restaurant. "We had our first date here." Derek pointed out to the street curb next to the entrance, "and right there? You were so nervous that night, you drank wine and when we left, you had thrown up all over the street so I took you home."_ _

__And then he drove up all the way to a small little business on the corner of a busy street. "You see that? It's actually a dog pound. You thought you wanted a puppy. But then we decided we should wait a little." Derek almost burst out laughing remembering the fact that as soon as he walked in all the dogs started barking like crazy. He was just letting them know who was the alpha, the apex predator. Classic Hale move._ _

__He then drove to another small lovely little cafe. "This is where we went to celebrate after you graduated. Coming from  
D.C., you weren't really up to party, too much social awkwardness," Derek slightly chuckled, "so we decided this was enough. Still remember the owner, haven't been there in years though." _ _

___Derek had driven up to a street where there had been construction, and it just looked brand new with new signs and lights and everything. "Looks new here doesn't it? Right over there-" Derek pointed at a brand new stop sign. "That was the first place you crashed your jeep since you graduated. You called me all freaked out about it-  
But luckily you were fine.  
That stop sign however- bent in half. That was the first time of many we had to get your truck towed, but it's okay, because we eventually became friends with the tow truck guy anyways."_

__And when he drove by the Santa Monica pier, he explained to Stiles in a gentle voice of remembrance, "and this is where I proposed.. you see that- where the sun looks like it meets the water? At the end of the Dock? There. Right in that spot. I knew I wanted to spend my life with you ever since that night." Derek sighed with content. "I'm sorry I can't take you home, we live a bit father away, just a few minutes from here but we wouldn't make it back in time," he remarked regretfully as he continued on to drive back to the hospital.  
The entire drive Stiles had been admiring all the stories and all the places, the different people and the different faces he's seen. He wishes that he could remember all of this, that maybe it would just come back to him. _ _

__As they were on their way back to the hellhole that was their temporary residential, Derek had spoken to Stiles, just to keep his mind awake. "Earlier. You asked for ten reasons why I love you." He noticed Stiles perked up, and it wasn't just because of the beautiful scene of the Sierras over the water. "Well, for starters, you're you. That's what I like most about you. You don't give a shit about what others say about you. Not sure that I could do that." Derek looked over, smiling at Stiles who had his head leaning against the window. "I love the way that you wear converse sneakers with formal pants and a dress shirt, and I love the way that you always call Scott, your best friend, and your Dad, every single night to make sure they got home alright." The wolf could practically smell the positive endorphins fuming off the human. "And I love the way that you're the last voice I hear before I go to sleep. I love how you always try to make me feel better, even though you feel like dying, and even though it usually comes in the form of sarcasm. And I love your dimples when you smile real hard, or just can't stop laughing because it reminds me that you're happy." Derek looked over again. Stiles' eyes were half closed, but he was still smiling. "I love how you geek out the second there's a new Star Wars movie. I love the way that your eyes sparkle in the light because it's like you've got an entire galaxy behind there. And I love how I miss you the second that you leave the front door, and how everything someone calls I pray your name pops up." By the third time Derek looks over to Stiles he knows he's listening and trying desperately to stay awake. "And lastly. I love the way that you still love everyone and care, even if you can't remember them."_ _

__Stiles opened his eyes within the last reason. When his heart started to palpitate, and he could feel himself blush, he knew his mind has decided._ _

__He was in love with Derek Hale._ _


	8. Brown Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! So so sorry for such an incredibly delayed update but I'm back :) I apologize also for the abundant amount of mistakes. I wrote this with my phone in one hand and my coffee in the other

"Derek."

"Derek-" the same voice whispered. It was the voice of Stiles who had been in slumber. After their spontaneous adventure, Stiles had succumbed to his exhaustion and eventually passed out. His body woke up and lost consciousness several times until he had fallen asleep. The nurses had him doped up on more pain medication, and the dreaded needles that accompanied the IV were back. His shirt and sweatpants were traded in for an awkward hospital gown because they had taken x-rays earlier. An oxygen tube had trailed and encompassed itself around his ears and through his nostrils to allow air. His arm was still strung in its sling after a painful joyride that was physical therapy earlier that day. 

"Yeah Stiles?" Derek murmured, perking up frantically. He had been bending over in the seat, his head halfway on the bed and his hand holding Stiles'. 

"Der'... Derek." His eyes closed again as his voice trailed out. Derek inferred that he was just sleep talking again. But then his heart started to get rapid, and his chest heaved up and down the way someone would be playing an accordion, squeezing in and then regretfully pulling out sharply. Derek jolted at the rough impulses coursing through his hand. Stiles scrunched his face and winced and writhed in pain. "It hurts."

"Stiles-" Derek started, it was a repeat of the previous day. 

_"I'mgonnathrowup. I don't- agh it hurts,"_ Stiles arched his back. 

"Stiles what hurts?" Derek jumped, pouncing out of his seat and felt his forehead. "You're burning." 

"I don't know- my- my sides burn." Stiles' eyes were tearing up, sending off the heart monitor in a blaze.

"Okay, okay point at it, where?," Derek pressed nurse's button that called in the doctors, just like the day before. 

Stiles struggled, playing and twisting around with his hand and pulled it out of the sling, "I'm taking this fucking thing off-" he said frustratingly. He pulled it off, revealing a perfectly fine and healed joint. The bruises had disappeared. 

Derek's eyes widened, begging him to stop so he wouldn't hurt himself, 

"what- It's... it's healed.." Stiles was astonished. Those days and days of pulling the pain slowly out of Stiles had served him well. 

"That's, thats- a-amazing," Derek stuttered, walking around the supernatural concept. Derek put his hand down on Stiles' upper thigh, right underneath his hip.

_Stiles yelled._

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Derek apologized repeatedly, his ears were clouded with both of their hearts pumping vigorously. 

And then he stopped. His pupils blew, and his long fingers trembled.

"I.. I felt that." 

Derek felt the world lift off from his shoulders, and he was dead sure that his heart skipped a beat.

"Derek- I felt that! I felt my freaking leg!" Stiles exclaimed, smiling through the pain and angst-full tears. 

Corbin and the nurse came rushing in. "What's going on?"

"I can feel my legs!" Stiles ecstatically yelled, but that pain pierced through his bones and left him yelling. His back arched again, causing him to tremor in aching muscles. Stiles gritted through his teeth and groaned. 

"Okay, just relax Stiles okay? You can feel everything you said?" Corbin held his chest down as he took a listen to his heart with the stethoscope. Stiles nodded, taking deep breaths. The nurse checked his reflexes in his toes and then worked up from there until she pressed under his stitches

"Ah right there!" Stiles yelled out again, groaning as his face strained with a deep plum red. "It hurts!" His fingers attached themselves to the bedsheets, twisting and wrapping around them as he desperately clutched onto Derek's hand. 

"Okay, we're gonna give you something to reduce the pain okay Stiles? You're gonna feel a little sleepy but it's okay." The nurse tried to talk to him as she pushed in more pain meds through the IV. Stiles' torso twisted and contorted in a burning sensation. Corbin and the nurse pulled the sheets off and slightly tugged upwards at the hospital gown and pulled it up to his abdomen. At least he was wearing boxers. They examined the stitches on each hip, they were dark lines drawn on him, reminding him of torture he was put through. 

Derek felt Stiles' group weaken on him. "It's okay baby," Derek whispered. He watched the corners of Stiles' mouth turn into a smile.

He loved it when Derek called him that, it made him feel safe. Stiles started to feel relaxed, and then extremely drowsy. "It's gonna make you feel tired, but it's not enough to make you sleep, okay?" The nurse reassured him. 

"It's starting to heal incredibly fast.. his nerves are mending themselves and that's why he can suddenly feel pain," he heard Corbin say. "But it's so fast. That's, that's impossible." Corbin said again. "And his shoulder too."

The nurse glared at the doctor, "should we schedule a CT?"

"As soon as possible. We want to exclude everything we can, especially if it's actually just phantom pain." Corbin checked the clipboard hanging at the end of the bed. "Now. We'll go now. It's the only available one if we hurry up. You hear that Stiles?"

Stiles nodded as he rubbed his face in exhaustion. Derek helped him off the bed and into a wheel chair, the pole for the IV followed him with the doctor and his patron.

"Stiles you okay?"

The question rang through Stiles' ears to the point where he was asked it again, but this time he found himself having a blanket pulled over him as he laid down into the machine. Stiles glanced over. He saw Corbin and Derek on the other side of the glass. It made him feel like a prisoner, a guilty ruthless lone wolf, but really he was just a victim. Stiles looked up at the ceiling until he slowly started to move and was welcomed by a bright light and thundering chugs. The loud bangs and books frightened so he closed his eyes. But.. he saw something. I think? 

_Stiles swore his eyes flashed before his eyes._

He closed his eyes and saw a man in his mind. At least he thinks it's a man. He was wrapped and bandages, and was groaning and eerie call. Something like a psychedelic zombie. 

Stiles opened his eyes. "What the hell.." he whispered.

"Stiles? You okay?" Corbin came in on the intercom.

"Yeah I- I'm fine."

Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. The young man tried to focus on the "zombie" once again, but instead all he could hear were words and screams. 

_"Stiles! Stiles!"_

_"Alison-"_

_A shriek._

_"Dad!"_

_"When is a door not a door?"_

Stiles shuddered, desperately fighting off the urge to cover his ears and cower.

"You gotta stay still Stiles." He heard Corbin again on the intercom.

Suddenly his heart started to palmitate as those visions started to become so real. Multiple faces flashed, voices clashed, and feelings lurked.

A boy, the same age as Stiles possibly, with red eyes and fangs for teeth. His eyebrows and sideburns came in too long to have been groomed.

_"Stiles! Wake up Stiles! Wake up!"_

_"When it's ajar."_

_"Scott- you're my brother."_

_"You need a divine move."_

_"I'm insatiable."_

_"Stiles! Wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!"_

"Derek!" Stiles yelled out, trembling when he couldn't mentally match the yelling and the talking to faces and people. "I need to get out! I can't- I can't!" Cue the monumental freak out. His hands twisted against the sheets again as he cried out. Corbin immediately halted the screening and cued the machine to stop. Derek ran out into the room to Stiles' aid.

"Stiles!" Concern showed in his eyes as he grabbed Stiles' hand. "Stiles I'm right here, you feel me?" Derek talked him through the anxiety. "You feel my fingers around yours?" The alpha squeezed them gently. He could practically hear Stiles' panting from the other room.

Stiles sniffed, revealing that he had shed a few tears. 

"I'm right here baby." Derek smiled as he talked quietly before the doctor had ordered the machine to pull out into its original position so the patient could have a breather. "Stilee?" Derek cupped his cheek. Stiles was lying unconscious on the bed for about a minute before waking up again.

"Stiles do you need a minute?" Corbin quietly asked.

Derek nodded for him.

"Ok." The doctor had mouthed before he left them for privacy.

Stiles sat up. "I don't- I don't know what happened," he sighed as he caught his breath. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're okay." Derek comforted the love of his life as he embraced him tightly, and Stiles allowed him to. He took a deep breath and sent his vibrations into Derek's one pulse. 

"I just wanna get this over with." Stiles whispered as his chin sat on Derek's shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the nape of the man's neck. Derek had finally managed calm him down and the process continued. Corbin had ordered a nurse to get Stiles some more medicine just to help him relax.

"No. no more meds." Stiles argued when the lady had offered a tablet of Valium. 

"Mr. Stilinski, it'll help relax you." 

"Stiles- please.." Derek softly gestured.

Stiles corporates reluctantly but ended up finding himself in a better state of mind; tranquil and calm.

He met with the physician in the other room once again, who gave him a curious look. "He's uh.. had bad experiences in the past with this." Derek crossed his arms as he explained to the authority. "I think- I think he remembered something.." 

\--

It wasn't until two hours of testing until they finished, to the point where Stiles had fallen asleep. They had ruled out every possible diagnosis, and officially declared him abled, and he truly was feeling his legs and it wasn't just phantom pains. They had done follow ups about his concussion and his shoulder as well. Stiles Stilinski was recuperating extremely well.

_Stiles woke up welcomed by strangers in his hospital room, gift bags and chocolates in hand._

Derek sat next to Stiles in the chair. "Hey. You're awake." He smiled.

Stiles cleared his threat and sat up right, analyzing the three adults in front of his eyes. Two girls and one boy. Er- man. But this kid, guy- whatever, Stiles recognized him. Not just from the talk the other week, not from pictures Derek showed him. But he knew him. He seemed so familiar. So... fresh in his mind.

"I hope you don't mind- uh.. this is Scott, Malia, and Lydia from last week." Derek introduced them as they put down their gifts on the table. 

Stiles became extremely sheepish, and beating red. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do and had a killer headache. All he wanted to do was go back to his restful sleep. 

"Stiles they- they came a really long way to see you." Derek broke the awkward silence, urging him to say something. 

Scott and Malia looked at each other apologetically. "Sorry we came unannounced.."

Malia smiled, "we just wanted to check up on you."

Lydia bit her lip tensively, "guys-" she cleared her throat, "a word in private?" The strawberry blonde exchanged looks with the werewolf and coyote.

"Uh- sorry' excuse us." Scott sheepishly murmured before taking it outside into the hall.

Stiles sat up and tightened his grip on Derek, wincing as he shifted his legs slightly. 

"I'm just gonna go- go see what they're up to." Derek excused himself when he could hear the arguing . 

"Scott we can't just barge in!" Lydia argued.

"He's gonna remember! The way he looked at me! I know it Lydia." Scott raised his voice and was calmed down by the tickle of Malia's fingers around his. "We can-"

"Scott don't. Didn't you see? He was like a deer in headlights! We're not doing that."

"Why not?! It worked the last time!" Scott yelled back at Lydia.

"Because he can't handle it." Derek interrupted him. "You think I haven't thought about that?" The brooding man crossed his arms. "Stiles never wanted the bite, so we are never doing anything supernatural, especially the therapy. His body won't be able to take it ever anyways." 

"You haven't told him." Scott said quietly.

"Are you serious? You thought I was? Scott- he passes out during panic attacks! He sleeps half the day and is blacked out for the other half! Do you really fucking think I'm gonna tell him that we're-!" Derek stopped himself and took a breather. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"You're right." Malia agreed. "We don't need to scare him any further."

"Alright. Then one at a time."

"Malia and I will go back to the apartment and unpack, we can visit tomorrow. But Scott's gonna off himself if he doesn't talk to Stiles soon." Lydia offered up to Derek who politely took up the idea.

The two girls made their way out after popping into the room to wave a quick goodbye to Stiles and hugged Derek. 

When someone goes through something like this, usually they'll get a hug and a good ol' "stay strong," thing going on, but this is different. This is Derek fucking Hale. This is Derek stare-at-me-for-more-than-three-seconds-and-I'll-kill-you Hale. This is just-because-I-don't-wear-leather-jackets-anymore-doesn't-mean-I've-gone-soft Hale.

It's Derek I-love-Stiles-Stilinski Hale. He's got this.

Stiles stared at Scott as he sat down. 

Jesus Christ, I know you- I know you! IknowyouIknowyouIknowyou why can't I remember you? _Stiles thought. It was on the tip of his tongue._

_"Hey." Scott started._

_"Hey." Stiles croaked._

_"Feeling better?"_

_"A little."_

_Stiles was numb with fear. Something about this guy. There's something. He can't remember what the hell it was but it's something._

_"So..."_

_"So..." Stiles reiterated in awkwardness._

_Scott looked around awkwardly, trying to find a topic of discussion. He had examined Stiles' body. It wasn't the same as last time. He could smell freshly sewn up, mended flesh, and dried blood. New tubes trailed up his nose and he wore that unflattering dress._

_"Does it hurt?" Scott asked quietly, slowly reaching for Stiles' hand._

_Stiles carefully inched his back on the sheets, away from his friend._

_Right._

_Forgot about the no-werewolf-slash-I-love-you-Scotty-thing._

_"Stiles look-"_

_"Do you have a dog?"_

_Scott perked up. "What? No- uh- well- I'm a dog... Person.. yeah." The boy smiled and stuttered over his sentence. "Why?"_

_"I don't know. You just seem like a dog person." Stiles examined him. "You also really like that girl. Malia. I can tell."_

_Scott smiled, dimples formed on his cheeks. "I'm planning to propose."_

_"Am I invited to the wedding?" Stiles chuckled, revealing a cute grin._

_"You're gonna be the best man."_

_The man's eyes lit up, "man are you serious?"_

_"Dead serious."_

_Scott's eyes squinted with glee as the corners of his lips turned up into a smile once again. It struck him that Stiles forgot about his own beautiful wedding, and it gave him an idea he'll tell Derek later. The two talked for a long time, just like the last meeting, but this time it was different._

_Scott was in the middle of explaining that one time that he was having girl troubles and they snuck into the woods and got drunk, but of course Scott wasn't capable of getting even to the level where liquor was on his breath._

_"So you know I had just gone through the roughest thing ever so we just laid on the grass and drank pretty much. You got totally wasted." Scott reminisced about their reckless teenage years._

_"Ooh bad breakup?" Stiles inferred._

_"Yeah." Scott clicked his tongue. "She was this amazing girl. So amazing.. she had jet black and brown hair, and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen in my life." Stiles listened to him in awe, then something slipped out of his mouth._

_Brown hair._

_Brown eyes._

_Girl._

_Scott._

_"Allison." Stiles whispered, loud enough for Scott to hear him._

_It sent chills through out every nerve in his body._


	9. That Voice Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a bit  
> Shorter chapter, but I have big things :)

"Derek he remembers." Scott argued as he was pulled out by the brooding alpha out of the room.

"You're scaring him."

"He said Allison I swear!" Scott looked back at his best friend through the hall window. "You heard it." Its true.

Derek did hear it.

"During the MRI testing this morning- he freaked out. He remembered something and I don't know what. I haven't talked to him about it but.. it was something bad." Derek contemplated, remembering the events of the previous hours.

"I'm calling Lydia." Scott pulled out his phone. "Derek- we're so close. We can do it. He won't get hurt- he'll remember everything!" 

_"I don't want him to remember everything!"_

_Scott stopped, phone halfway out of his pocket and had a sudden urge to cry. "What?" He quietly said._

"What if it's better? What if Stiles is happier not remembering? What if- what if he's healthier? Less anxious? And feels less guilty?" Derek was almost yelling at his friend. "Scott. We've been married for five years. Five years! And Every night, we go to bed. And Every night it takes him a little more than and hour to just fall asleep, because he's up thinking- _what if I did this? Or what if I could've saved them?_ \- it's been five years since that Scott! What if _I_ can save him just this once?" 

__Scott put his hand on Derek's shoulder, and then quickly pulled him into a hug when his eyes watered. "You saved him. So many times. And if it wasn't for you- he would've died the night he met Peter in the hospital sophomore year, let alone the car wreck."_ _

__Derek felt his shoulders tighten and his grip around Scott get tighter because he didn't want to let go. He didn't want to let go of the kid. Because in Derek's eyes, even though there's just a three year difference between him and Scott and his friends, they're still kids to him._ _

__Scott's his brother._ _

__(And also technically soon-to-be cousin by the way.)_ _

__"Tomorrow."_ _

__Scott pulled away hesitantly from the embrace as Derek answered._ _

__"Tomorrow- you, Malia, and Lydia come. We'll do it. We'll try it. Stiles has PT in a while anyways, and he gets really tired so he'll probably just sleep into tomorrow." Derek wiped at his eyes sheepishly. _No, that's not a grown ass man crying in the hall lady, keep walking. It's allergies.__ _

__Derek wished Scott goodbye and gave him money to run to the store since the apartment hasn't had any food in there for over a month except for an opened box of oatmeal and probably expired at this rate- fruit._ _

__Derek went back into the room, closing the door behind him as Stiles stared at him, eyelids half closed._ _

__"Where- where's... Scott?" Stiles cautiously said, carefully pronouncing each syllable. Derek knew what was coming next._ _

__"He uh.. he had an appointment. But he'll be here tomorrow- Malia and Lydia too. I promise." Derek sat down in the chair as he watched Stiles' hand start to shake and tremble again._ _

__"That's... wha- what you said last time." Stiles' voice was trailing out as tremors struck him. Derek held his hand, feeling the vibrations that went through him as they slowed down. He poured his husband a cup of water and got up and pulled out some chocolates from his friends and place it on a napkin and put it beside the water on the bedside table._ _

__"Stiles are you dizzy?"_ _

__He nodded._ _

__"I got you. Don't worry."_ _

__Stiles passed out as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his arm stopped trembling rapidly. His head bobbed against the pillow until his limbs fell limp. Derek sighed and pressed the back of his hand to Stiles' cheeks; he wasn't burning up at least. But it's so sad. Stiles is gonna have to deal with this constant condition probably for the rest of his life._ _

__It's not fair._ _

__"Stiles." Derek whispered. "Stiles, baby."_ _

__His fingers trailed along his cheekbone caressingly until Stiles fluttered his long brown lashes a few minutes later. Stiles cleared his throat before asking, "how long was I out?"_ _

__"A few minutes. A bit longer then usual."_ _

__Stiles made a grunt of disapproval as he sat up against the pillow, that searing pain coming into fact once again but choosing to ignore it. However, his tell-tale face gave it away so Derek held on tighter to him like he was a balloon with a fear of letting him float away._ _

__Stiles stared at the wall again. He hated it. Really, I'm not sure what it is about that damn wall. Derek didn't want to make Stiles uncomfortable somehow, so he let him sleep it off until it was time for his first _serious_ physical therapy appointment._ _

__"C'mon Stiles. Up." Derek pulled the sheets off, exposing his legs to a frigid blast of air he didn't welcome._ _

__"I don't wanna go." Stiles murmured, rubbing his eyes as he stretched every aching muscle._ _

__"Stiles I know your tired- but you have to do this!" Derek didn't want to argue with him as he wrapped his hand around his wrists and lugged Stiles. Derek put down the wheelchair by the bed side. "Up, up."_ _

__"Derek-" Stiles strained as he lunged at his hips._ _

__"Okay, so we gotta do this and then some blood tests down at the lab and then your dads coming-"_ _

__"Derek!" Stiles winced as he yelled._ _

__"Oh god you're in pain." Derek halted, embarrassed that he was hurting his beloved Stiles. "I'm sorry-"_ _

__"It's fine! I just- I just need to take it easy." Stiles huffed. He didn't want to be babied anymore. "I got it." He gave Derek a glare and he immediately backed off. Derek watches, astounded, as Stiles pull his limbs to the edge of the bed. He was gleaming._ _

__"What?"_ _

__"Nothing." Derek smiled, wrapping his arm around Stiles' back and bracing him. "Okay, slowly- slow-"_ _

__Stiles managed to barely get up on his legs as his knees quivered and almost tripped over his own bones when he swayed forward. Derek tightened his grip on him, maybe just a little too hard. "I got you." Derek held his hand tightly. "I got you, baby."_ _

__Stiles was one hundred percent sure his knee was going to snap and/or disintegrate or possibly both but not limited to that order._ _

__"C'mon just one step Stiles," Derek encouraged his husband, watching how he put his pale hand out first- afraid that he might fall and needed to catch himself. Stiles cautiously bent at his knee, trying to remember the order in which his joints were supposed to move. "You got it- you got it Stiles."_ _

__Stiles took his foot forward ever so slightly, shuddering a short breath of relief when he had finally stepped over and collapsed into the wheelchair._ _

__"Oh dear god." Stiles tossed his head back against the seat. "I forgot how to freaking walk." He chuckled._ _

__"Stiles you did it!"_ _

__"What?" Stiles looked around as Derek pulled him in for a tight embrace. "Huh. I guess I did."_ _

__Derek pushed him in the wheelchair down the same corridor he had for the last week for his appointments. "Stiles that was.. something." Derek had explained to him._ _

__"I think it was progress." Stiles smiled upon entering the physical rehabilitation center. He poked and prodded at his hip, trying to hide the winces he made from the constant pulling on his flesh._ _

__"Ah Stiles, Derek- heard about the update!" The physical therapist greeted them excitingly, but his pager buzzed rapidly in his pants pocket. "Ugh- I'm sorry guys, uh.. urgent emergency. Are you interested in er- warming up? Stretching out? I've heard you've been making progress in walking, so why don't you start with that? I'm- I'm sure this won't take more than a minute. Can I trust you two not to break anything?" The man chuckled playfully with a charming smile, but knowing Stiles, they probably will end up with tables nailed to the ceiling by the time he was back. But Issa gave them the space they needed, rushing out of the room swiftly._ _

__"Jesus. I hate that guy." Stiles muttered._ _

__"Why so?" Derek stifled his laughter._ _

__"Because. He's so- and I'm so-" Stiles made expressive hand gestures. "He's like an Olympian God what the actual hell? I- I can't even walk properly."_ _

__"Hey that's not fair Stiles," Derek defended him. "You've been through a hell of a lot." He sighed, "why don't- why don't we start? Let's try taking more steps?"_ _

__Stiles heaved, crossing his arms as if he were a two year old. "I can't even remember how to walk." Derek wheeled him over to the training station and made sure Stiles stretched all of his limbs before starting. The platform had two railings, parallel to each to support the patient as they learned to regain their mobility. Stiles stood up at the start of it and grasped the metal tightly as if he were going to dissipate._ _

__"You ready?"_ _

__"This feels silly- I feel silly."_ _

__"Stiles this is how your gonna teach your body to do it again."_ _

__"Well why can't my body just know? Or you know- not lose it to start with? I got handed the short straw." Stiles seemed to have everything click together._ _

__"It's called life. And it sucks. I know. But we are going to get through this. I promise." Derek made deep eye contact with Stiles, signaling to the older wolf that he truly was listening. "Ok. Just like before. Heel, toe, heal, toe, one after the other."_ _

__Stiles' anticipation skyrocketed, as did his adrenaline. But then he noticed his fingers were getting a bit too shaky with every movement made. The patient looked down at his steps. So far he's made two, and that's amazing. Glimpses of the gown, and then his socks shot, and then gown swaying again and then the socks. But still, every bend of the knee was locked. And every stretch of the calf was painful. Everything hurt. Derek was holding him by the shoulder, ready to catch him if he fell. Stiles started to get nervous, frustrated with the little amount of work he's gotten done and his fingers started to tremble against the metal and it produced a clinking sound that bothered his husband's ears._ _

__"Stiles- you okay? You good?" Derek asked concern, noticing his change in mood._ _

__Stiles started to sway and sweat in anxiousness. "I- I can't," the young man stuttered when suddenly it became extremely hard to breathe and the room start to close in. "I can't-" he repeated as he stopped in his place and would've crashed down in Derek wasn't there to cautiously help him off the platform and onto the floor. _"Icant-Icant-Icant-Icant!" _Stiles hysterically tried to fight against the invisible two tons of water overflowing in his throat right now.___ _

____"Stiles, Stiles baby you can do this! You can do this!" Derek tightly held one of Stiles' hands, for the other was clutched to his chest with the fabric coming through the crevasses of his fist he made._ _ _ _

_____"Ican'tbreathe!" ____ _ _ _

______Derek stopped, realizing he was full on having a severe panic attack when he rocked back and forth. "Stiles listen to me, listen to me baby. It's okay, you're okay." The not-so-brooding alpha male reassured him in more ways then one. "You're safe, you're okay. Nothing's gonna hurt you." Stiles took in deep breaths, gasping for precious oxygen. "Think of happy things, happy thoughts," Derek reminded as they made eye contact once again. But Stiles became distracted._ _ _ _ _ _

______A voice._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Stiles-" Derek snapped his fingers, "happy things."_ _ _ _ _ _

_"Uh.. think about family- friends.. bad example."_ He heard the girl's voice again. 

"Stiles you have to breathe!" Derek was worried he was gonna pass out. "Stiles-" 

"I can't- I can't" the patient started to hyperventilate, closing his eyes tightly when the two voices started to confuse him. 

_"Try and slow your breathing."_ And it was such a sweet gentle voice, but it trashed around his mind. It didn't belong to Derek. Colors flashed- red- orange- he can't tell. 

______"I can't-" he was desperate for air and tranquility, his cheeks flushed a crimson red._ _ _ _ _ _

_"Stiles shh.. look at me, look at me."_ The voices overlapped at once, sending chills down Stiles' spine and an electric spark in his eyes. Immediately, Derek stopped and leaned in for a kiss, causing the entire world to stop, and Stiles' eyes to widen. Their lips locked, causing Stiles to furrow his brows in curiosity when he realized his heart either stopped beating or he's just too numb to feel it. 

_______It felt so good._ _ _ _ _ _ _

______Stiles never wanted it to end as he stared into the pale blue eyes of Derek Hale. Slowly and hesitantly, they pulled away, and Stiles' anxiety melted away._ _ _ _ _ _

______So they just sat there._ _ _ _ _ _

______Stiles buried his face into his elbow, drying the tears onto the sleeve of his hospital gown._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I love you." Stiles whispered, intertwining his fingers within Derek's grasp._ _ _ _ _ _

______Derek stared at his puffy eyes, he looked at the beautiful honey brown circles that encompassed his pupil, and how his long eyelashes batted in the light. "I love you too."_ _ _ _ _ _


	10. "is This A Séance?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So sorry I disappeared. I had a medical emergency of my own, but everything is a-okay and back to getting the show on the road.

Stiles stirred in his sleep in the comfort of the white, artificially  
smelling room when he opened his eyes to find Derek smiling all lovey-dovey at him.

"Whaddayou staring at?" Stiles muttered with a sly grin as his vision adjusted. He was back to wearing an old Boston College shirt and sweatpants that was much more comfortable than the damn paper-thin dress gown. 

"I was just waiting for you to wake up."

Stiles cleared his throat and sat up and looked at the clock. "I fell asleep again?" It was 4 in the evening. 

"No- you... you passed out, after the physical therapy. It was just a lot on your body- and a really quick adjustment. But, I was so proud of you. You don't remember?" Derek explained in a soft tone when he noticed Stiles seemed to be a bit withdrawn as his hand inched away from Derek's. "W-what? What's wrong?"

Stiles stuttered, "I-," he started, "Derek, I need you to be honest-" The young man seemed startled and frightened, irritated and compulsive.

"Have I given you a reason to make you think I'm not?"

Stiles shook his head. "Earlier today. When Scott came. Man- I- I knew him Derek. _I know him._ But it was like he was from a dream.. but it felt too real to be a dream." Stiles squinted at his eyes, completing the description with the over-the-top gestures. 

Derek brought himself closer to Stiles' bed, holding Stiles' hand between both of his own. "Stiles-do you.. wanna talk about it? What was it about?"

"You're gonna think I'm crazy."

"I promise you I will not. I'm listening." Derek comforted him in the gentlest way he knew how. By being a normal human using his normal words.

Stiles sighed pro-longingly. "There were a lot- a lot of dreams. And a lot of people. But there was one-" the patient contorted the fabric of his shirt, clutching it in between his fingers in unease. "It was the car crash. I think- I-" Stiles stammered, "maybe- I don't even know but I think, I think remember it."

"You do?"

"You were there. You- broke the window. You pulled me out." Stiles discussed as he started to stare off, and suddenly looked distant when he furrowed his brows. "But then- you- you did something, you-" Stiles made a gesture that suggested a change in size, "and your nails," he created a clawing movement, looking at his palms when he pulled in his fingers. Stiles then looked up at Derek's pale, sky blue eyes. "And your eyes. They-" Stiles stopped, suddenly feeling intimidated by Derek for the first time since he's awaken. He took a deep breath before shifting ever so slightly away from Derek and continued, "they were red." Suddenly, a macabre scent of fear and dehumanization lurked in the corners of the room, and Derek had smelled it all too strongly. "It felt real Derek. It wasn't a dream- more of like a flashback, just like I had of me and Scott running in the woods... Did you pull me out of the car?"

"Stiles.." Derek felt a softer grip in his hands, almost as if Stiles wanted him to let go.

"You're not objecting my insanity.." Stiles immediately knew something was up. _"Did you pull me out of the car?"_ Derek had never heard Stiles being so dismissive like this.

Derek was seriously about to cry as he looked down, and then back at Stiles. "Yes. I was- I was there. I pulled you out of the car. And I called the police. And I held you until they came, Stiles."

"How- how'd you get me out?"

Derek tensely stared at his husband, angry that Stiles was going to find out like this. "Stiles.." he repeated again.

"Show me your eyes."

Frozen. Derek was frozen.

"God dammit Derek, show me." Derek closed his eyes in upset, and when he opened them, Stiles couldn't help but stare at the crimson, blood hungry, red circles that encompassed his pupil. "You're a-," Stiles stopped his thought when he saw the guilt in Derek's eyes.

"Yeah." The man said in a defeated voice.

Stiles knew it- sort of- he totally called it. And he's not surprised. And he would've been pissed off, but part of him knows that he somehow was entangled with werewolves to start with, which meant Derek wasn't hiding it. 

"I was... I was gonna tell you. I promise. But it was too soon. I didn't know if you would've been scared. Or angry. Or upset." Derek said quietly. "I didn't want this to happen. I wanted to save you years of regret and fear Stiles. I was protecting you."

Stiles didn't say anything, instead he just stared at that damn wall he hated before turning his back to Derek and laying down. And Derek just watched. He couldn't say anything, couldn't think of anything except for how Stiles is probably going to file for a divorce. "I didn't want to scare you. For all you knew I was just some guy who found you on the side of the road. It's not exactly a conversation starter. Stiles- please don't..." Somehow, he willed his legs to move and forced himself out the door when Stiles refused to talk. His brain said keep it together, because his heart said lose all fucking control. 

And with swift movements out of the hospital, Derek found himself sitting in his jet black cammaro that sat in the parking lot, unmoved in the last few days. His hands traced the edges of the steering wheel, and when he caught his eyes in the red crimson color in the mirror, he lost all of his shit. Banging and punching at everything and anything he could reach in his car, not even caring about the fact that he could potentially break a window. The alpha yelled out in stride and frustration before breaking down into a sob. Derek fucked up. Because you see, Stiles isn't mad that Derek's a werewolf.

He's mad because Stiles relies on him to tell him the truth about everything because he can't freaking remember. 

Derek pulled out his phone and dialed Scott desperately. 

"Hello? Derek?"

"Scott- I screwed up."

"What? Derek what happened?"

"I don't know- Stiles remembered or didn't or I don't know anymore and he knows about _us_ , me specifically and he won't talk to me and he probably hates me now and-"

"Derek. Slow down. Okay? Relax. I'll be on my way. So He just guessed? How is he not freaking out?" Scott tried to pull in all the details.

"No, no I think.. I think he knew- or maybe remembered, but its not something he wanted to remember." Derek sighed as he lay his forehead on the top rim of the steering wheel.

"Okay, I'm on my way. I'll tell his dad too. I'm bringing Lydia."

"Wait- no you can't do it." Derek was one step ahead of him.

"Why not? It's a perfect time. We're gonna make him remember."

And within twenty minutes, somehow Derek found himself pacing in the hospital corridor with Scott McCall and Lydia Martin. 

"He hates me." Derek reiterated. "I'm not going in."

"Derek for god's sake you two are married! He's gonna need you for support." Lydia tried to make him see the brighter picture.

"He hates me! He's not gonna wanna do it, it's just gonna scare him even more." He bursted out. But to be honest, we all knew Stiles was gonna find out about it anyways. 

Regardless- Scott and Lydia went in, leaving Malia to stop Derek from coming in. 

"Hey Stiles."

Stiles gave them a glare. 

"Listen, uh so Derek-" Scott continued on.

"Spare me the details." Stiles said in a monotone voice, no infliction that betrayed his feelings. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Derek doesn't want you to be upset about it." Lydia chimed in.

"It'd be real great if the guy could just not focus on himself for just a second!" Stiles gritted through his teeth, hastily propping himself up on the bed. 

"Stiles that's not fair- let us explain."

"Oh that's not fair? You think _that's_ not fair to him? What about trusting someone, giving them literally your entire life from the palm of your hand and them just crushing it! What about relying on one person for everything that _you can't fucking remember because you got hit by a fucking car!"_ Stiles yelled, feeling that vein at his neck popping out. He didn't know whether it was embarrassment, betrayal, or frustration that caused a red sign of exasperation on his face. 

"Okay- just take it easy. We hear you." Scott tried to relax him.

"What if we can help you remember." Lydia spoke up again, she looked almost frightened to stand in front of Stiles, because she knew the outbursts were physically causing him pain.

"What?" 

"Through a relaxing therapy. We tried it once; it works. And it can help you re-learn everything you wanna know." She explained, recalling the events of senior year.

"Hypnosis you mean."

Lydia nodded her head.

Stiles looked out the room window, watching Derek pace in the hall. He did not want to do it. At all. But he owed it to Derek. But then he started doing that thing that totally destroys him- yeah. Thinking. Derek would have told him if he asked right? So maybe he was trying to erase those years. Maybe he truly didn't want Stiles to feel that pain again.

"Okay. But on one condition. You guys have to make sure that I am told about everything that ever happened- not just what You want me to know."

Scott and Lydia looked at each other with buffering faces. "Deal."

"I'm not exactly sure who I'm trusting anymore.."

"Just tell me one thing- Stiles. You didn't flip out. You could've been horrified- could've gotten Derek kicked out. But you just shrugged at it. Why?" Lydia pursed her lips.

"I just knew it."

It wasn't long until the two were sneaking in a candle and closing the door behind them and pulling down the blinds. Stiles sat up when Lydia put the candle on a the bed lunch tray. "What is this- a séance?"

"Nice to know your humors in check." Lydia chuckled as she explained. "Not quite. We're gonna try a type of therapy they use on amnesiacs to jog up some memories. But it needs to be very quiet- and you have to be incredibly focused. Okay?" She lit the candle as Scott turned off the lights. "Okay, Stiles- I want you to focus on the candle." She grabbed his hand and held it. Stiles stared at her in an epiphany. "Stiles- focus. Listen to my voice okay?"

Scott sat in the corner, watching as Stiles started to recognize that sweet gentle voice he had heard somewhere! Somewhere but where the hell? 

"Close your eyes. Stiles this is only gonna work if you trust me and focus." 

The young man took a deep breath and let go of all his worries, feeling a release in intensity in his shoulders.

"Ok Stiles. I want you to imagine your in a library... you go it?"

Stiles imagined the school library, of course he didn't realize that, but he could physically see it.

"Open your eyes and look at the candle. Can you still see the library?" Lydia quietly whispered.

"Mhm." Stiles confirmed.

"Good. Now close them again. Ok Stiles, I want you to try to think of the last thing you can remember- but don't loose the library." 

Stiles stirred for a second. "I don't- i don't know. I remember... I remember waking up. After I crashed. I remember feeling- feeling almost everything but yet nothing."

Lydia nodded her head, "good.. good. Okay- I really need you to focus on this now okay? I need you to concentrate to the point where you can't hear me. Stiles imagine you're eight years old. You just started little league. You love baseball don't you?"

Stiles smirked a bit, "Yeah.. I- I like baseball."

"Imagine at a baseball field. You're the last batter of the game, the other team is up by one point. You hit- and you and your teammates on the bases run. You strike out- you lose."

Stiles nodded his head.

"Your baseball bat is in head. You look out to the stands of people cheering. Who do you see?"

Stiles followed through with the thought process. "I see- I see my dad..?" His voice was inflicted. 

"You see your dad Stiles."

"He's- he's not supposed to be here- he had work. He told me he wasn't coming." 

"He's here Stiles- he's watching you. He skipped work to come watch you play. So you look at the pitcher dead in the eyes, and as soon as the ball came at you- tell me what happened Stiles." Lydia's voice was prominent and clear.

"I.. I hit it. I hit- I hit the ball!"

"What'd you do Stiles?" 

"I hit a grand slam- I- I'm running now, I'm running!" A certain light shined through Stiles theatrical voice, the excitement!

"Stiles look at the stands- what's going on?"

"My dad- he's cheering! He's... happy."

"So happy Stiles." Lydia watched the corners of his mouth curl into a goody grin. "Keep thinking about that Stiles." Lydia looked at Scott, mouthing the word now. He creeped up to the patient and pulled out his claws, tracing Stiles forearm with it as he held his best friend's hand now. "Stiles don't be alarmed okay? For this to work- we need you to be in your subconscious, we're going to do that right now okay? You're gonna feel a little pinch."

Stiles squirmed and twitched, "wait- wait wait-" Stiles voice trailed out as Scott embedded his claws into his skin by the nape of his neck, immediately knocking him out. 

"Stiles? Stiles can you still hear me? I thinks he's too in to his subsconscious."

Scott winced, feeling the physical pain too. "You sure this is safe? He looks more like unconscious.." He frowned, wondering about the gaping wounds he's gonna have at the end of this expertement.

"You'll heal it for him. I hope so." Lydia pursed her lips again, wondering on what was going on in Stiles' mind. "Last time we did this, you were talking through it."

"Last time we did this I almost froze to death. Literally." Scott reminded her. They both took deep breaths. 

Lydia ran her thumb up and down the small of Stiles' palm when he shuddered. His head was thrown back against the pillow and he quietly stirred again. 

In his subconscious, Stiles was in the library. A small book had been peeking out of a shelf, so obviously it drew Stiles to it. Cautiously he walked over, and opened the book. Instantly, he couldn't read it. His eyes stopped working as if he were illiterate, the words and letters jumbled up and gave him a headache, but instead he saw something. A flash of.. a memory? 

_"Her Dad. Is a werewolf hunter." Scott frustratedly yelled out in angst, throwing his fists against the locker in the boys locker room._

Stiles shook the thought away. "Lydia?" He called out loudly. No response of course. He took a deep breath and opened another book.

Another moment surged through his brain. 

_"This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life," he saw his dad yell out at him at some sort of pool party. A whiskey bottle was in his hand, and he wore a look of grief and exhaustion. "It's all you.. all you Stiles. You killed your mother." Stilinski gripped the bottle, "and now you're killing me!" He tomahawked the bottle at Stiles who ducked, but when there was no crashing of glass or impact on his body, Stiles looked back up. No one was there._

Stiles flinched, throwing the book onto the ground in terror. "Lydia's party." He unconsciously whispered to himself, unaware of what the hell it meant. Stiles ran his around through his long hair and picked up another book. 

_Voices and doors screeched as Stiles threw his head back against the pole in which he was handcuffed with Lydia to. The smell of ammonia and tranquilizers were abundant. Brunsky had just walked in with a taser and a syringe, chuckling deviously. "Don't freaking hurt her," Stiles gritted through his teeth before getting a punch to the jaw._

It snapped Stiles right out. _He remembered_. "Eichen." He whispered. Suddenly, an idea struck him. Quickly, Stiles ran up and down the isles of the library, pulling out every book and letting it fall onto the floor. Immediately, he felt a surge of anxiety when he heard too many voices going on at once, as if the books were tapes. 

_"Scott you're my brother."_

_"You were a hero tonight."_

_"Stiles- we're gonna get through this."_

_"How am I doing? Great. You know- besides the not sleeping, the jitteriness, the constant overwhelming feeling that something terribles gonna happen."_

_"Scott- Scott I don't know where I am."_

_"Stiles are you okay?"_

_"I used to get them a lot when my mom died. Not fun huh?"_

_"Your yoda I will be!"_

_"Stiles is my anchor."_

_"You're Scott McCall! Your the true alpha. But you know what? Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody! Some of us make mistakes! Some of us are humans!"_

_"Remember. Remember I love you."_

Stiles was sitting on the cold floor of the library, unaware of how he got there because he was too fixated on the physical flashes. They were too real to be dreams. They were memories, and they all attacked him at the same time until he finally gave in. "Remember, remember, remember," he whispered as he pulled on his hair, tears silently falling down his cheeks.

Stiles started to stir in the hospital bed. Lydia panicked when it seemed that he was having a difficult time breathing when his breaths became shallow and he started to silently cry.

"Scott- stop. Take it out- take it out!" Lydia frantically yelled out.

"What the hell is happening?" Scott jumped back, and then checked to see if there was a scar on his neck. Nothing. As if it hadn't happened.

"I know you told me to stay out- but I have to be here. For this- what's going on?" Derek came in with Malia worried because of the panic he could hear. A synesthete could have seen it in colors radiating off the door knob.

"He's in too deep. Anything farther then this and he won't wake up." Lydia explained as Scott brought in Derek. "Stiles- Stiles can you hear me? You gotta pull back Stiles. Stiles you can't let it overwhelm you. Okay? Pull back. Wake up Stiles." Lydia was just taking a blind shot with this, because Stiles probably couldn't hear her. She squeezed on his right hand that started to tremble.

In his subconscious he could hear a rumbling noise, as if it were a voice. "Wake up Stiles." It was sweet the first time.

"Lydia?" Stiles questioned. 

"Wake up-" The second time sounded like his own, and Stiles felt defeated as he cried, "this can't be real, can't be real.. wake up Stiles. Wake up-"

The young man shot up in the bed, unable to control his sobbing as his hand shook. 

"Stiles-" Lydia almost started crying herself, relieved because he almost didn't come out of it. 

"I-I-" Stiles hiccuped, his face exasperated with a red tone. 

"Stiles relax- relax you're okay, you're okay." Scott smiled, reassuring his best bud.

_"I remember- I remember everything."_


	11. "Again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the disappearance again, but I am back with a short fluff chapter, because I have such an infatuation with fluff. I apologize for all the grammar, spelling errrors. This is Unbeta'd and I happen to write this on the tiny screen of my phone which is pretty hard to do when you don't wear your glasses and are surviving on 3 cups of coffee at 1:30 am.

It was only a few minutes later when Stiles groaned at the feeling of the cold surges pushed into his veins through the IV, clutching Derek's hand tightly when he felt his sides ache in a searing pain. The nurse took the stethoscope to Stiles' bare chest underneath his shirt to listen to his strengthened heart. Outside, Stiles could see Lydia, Malia, Scott, and his father talking to each other in the hall through the window. His forehead was sweaty, and his hair was getting long as he saw it in the mirror on door of the open closet across the room. The nurse sighed in content when everything was normal. 

"We're just giving you something to help with the migraines and the pain because we are trying to get another MRI scan just to get an update on your condition that improved rapidly." The nurse explained as Corbin examined his healing stitched scars. 

"Stiles- you've regained an insane amount of your memory back, not sure exactly how," Corbin stopped and glanced over at Stiles' friends, "but it's back remarkably. We just need to see how much exactly is back."

Stiles smiled. He was so thankful for his friends, only they would do something so weird and awkward to help him get his life back. Somehow, they did it undetected which leaves less questions- mission accomplished.

The nurse handed Stiles a white board, "Mr. Stilinski we are going to ask you a couple of questions to see exactly where your memory begins and ends. Sound good?"

Stiles smacked his lips charmingly with a pop, "yup." He smiled at Derek.

"Alright, First, write your full name."

Stiles immediately wrote it out: M-I-E-C-Y-Z-S-L-A-W S-T-I-L-I-N-S-K-I."

Derek chuckled. Stiles was just being extra at this point.

"Good. How about writing your current home address?"

Stiles stopped the marker on the board for a few seconds when he noticed his hand involuntarily twitched, but then relaxed again as he wrote, "121 Pine Lane." Derek took a deep breath as he watched Corbin's eyebrows raise. He was trying to match the address that Derek had written on the paperwork. The address of _their home._

_"What?" Stiles looked at all of them._

_"That's your old house.. where you grew up." Derek explained._

_"I know I-.. I thought I remembered everything." Stiles rasped quietly._

_Corbin took down some notes, "what's the earliest thing you can remember Stiles?"_

_Stiles thought for a while, his fingers of his right hand tapped automatically against the white board. "Uh... I have this memory of around kindergarten.. or maybe first grade. But it was with Greenberg. Don't know what the hell he did but I remember something about it." Greenberg always made Stiles laugh. Wonder what he's up to nowadays._

_"What's the most recent memory?" Corbin reiterated._

_"The crash. But there's like a big blank space. Like if you were to put it on a timeline," Stiles explained with over-the-top hand gestures, "you'd have all the way up onto the first year of college, and then there's that space, and then the crash."_

_The nurse hummed as she looked at her notes. "Maybe it's the last five years he's lost permanently, if everything else is back." She spoke as she took the whiteboard and pen. The young man's right hand started to shake violently again, as if it were a convulsion in just that one body part._

_"The tremors back." Derek said, holding Stiles' hand as he tried to steady it, slightly sighing as he watched Stiles in his discomfort._

_"The only thing we can do for the tremor is to wait for it to subside naturally- or go in after it." Corning started, pulling out the MRI scans. "The nerves in the hand severed connections to the brain, so the only options Stiles are to live with it with control by medication, or surgery."_

_"Brain surgery?"_

_Corbin nodded._

_Derek felt Stiles' hand clench. "No-  
No, no, no Derek- I am not getting brain surgery." He started as Derek tried to calm him. "I'm not- I didn't even want that second surgery or any to start with- for me to let them cut into my skull? No thank you."_

_"Okay Stiles, I hear you. It's your choice." Derek backed him up._

_"I'd rather live with it." Stiles said as he felt his fingers relax and release a bit._

_"We just want you to know what the options are." The nurse explained, before Corbin cut in._

_"Besides that, you are recuperating extremely well. Physical therapy is going well from what I hear. We just need a little bit more work with keeping your blood pressure up, But You'll be out of here in no time." The brooding man changed his usual derogatory expression with a flashy smile._

_"Really? How long-" Stiles' eyes brightened._

_"By the end of this week."_

_It's been a long two months. It's come to the point where some days, the lady at the coffee shop doesn't even charge Derek because he's there so often, and instead gives her the equivalence in tips. It's been so long that he's on first name basis with most of the nurses. It's about time for Stiles to be in the comfort of his own bed, in his own home. As the doctors cleaned up their supplies, Corbin explained, "We are going to start reducing the pain meds so you can ease into a normal routine." It felt weird with the IV, it was a tingling sensation. Stiles pulled through though._

_The entire gang soon arrived to talk with Stiles, and albeit they were quick, it was as if they had resumed to normal, as if nothing had happened. The only thing that struck Stiles' attention though was his father. "Hey kid." The older man said, grinning gratefully._

_"Dad I am 23."_

_"Hey- after a scare like this- I will call you a kid if I damn well please." Noah chuckled, bracing Stiles' tightly in a hug._

_"As usual, duty calls. But I couldn't let this one by. I thought I lost it forever, but I dug around some old backed up files." He pulled out his phone. "I think it's time for you to hear this- I was saving it for your birthday, but today's just as special an occasion."_

_Stiles took the phone and played the MP3 file on it._

__"Hi love, I'm still not finished testing yet. It's something, Kiss my baby good night for me okay Noah? And make sure he gets to school this time- no more hiding under the covers. Oh- and tomorrow is career day. I know you said you were busy and all- but I'm not sure I can make it. Stiles was so excited for it.. anyways. I'll call you back. I love you."_ _

_Stiles' eyes watered within the first two seconds._

_"Mom." He whispered. Stiles sniffled slightly, "This was- right before she got sick.."_

_The sheriff nodded. "The last voicemail she left... Son, she would've been so incredibly proud of you. She loved you."_

_-_

_It was only after the Sheriff, Lydia, Malia, and Scott left after welcoming Stiles back to his normal self was it when he and Derek were finally alone. He never once let go of Derek's hand._

_"I'm so proud of you, you know." Derek smiled. "I always knew you were different then everyone else."_

_"Couldn't have done it without you." Stiles smiled back. "There were days where I didn't know what I was doing, didn't know if I could have even trusted you."_

_"I was just a stranger to you. You trusted me." Derek saw that little light in Stiles' eyes suddenly shut off. "What are you thinking about?"_

_Stiles was thinking about the past. The days where he woke up violently crying from the pain, throwing up half his weight in the bedpan from the meds, and staring at the scars that burned every now and then, they didn't seem to fade. "5 years huh?" He sighed._

_"It's okay."_

_"What am I missing?" Stiles started to count on his fingers, "I graduated. I remember the first year at Washington, and then now. There's that blank. I still can't remember ever getting married to the love of my life. And I've been having those dreams of everything and I can't fucking piece it together."_

_"Stiles it's okay." Derek felt Stiles' grip strengthen on his fingers. "Does it still hurt?" He tried to take the pain away._

_"Like a bitch." Stiles smirked. "These things are so fucking ugly." He referenced the surgery scars. The ones on his hips were starting to fade, but the long gash going down his chest is probably gonna live to celebrate Stiles' 100th birthday._

_Derek chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. "I love them. They're like battle scars."_

_Stiles playfully punched him, "you've gone soft Sourwolf."_

_"Well who do we have to blame?" Derek couldn't stop smiling, as he intertwined his fingers with his husband's and gave him a sweet kiss on his knuckle._

_"You know my dad showed me something today. It was my moms last voicemail she left." Stiles quietly said, watching Derek's eyebrows perk up. "It was really nice."_

_"I'm sure it was." Derek comforted him._

_"I think I'm gonna get something of it. Like a tattoo- one of those soundwave ones."_

_Derek almost burst out laughing._

_"What? You think I won't?" Stiles impishly replied._

_"No-no," Derek cleared his thought, "not at all. Just- you and needles don't exactly go hand and hand."_

_"Well neither did a human and a dog, but guess who's marriage is just that?" He snarked back._

_Derek chuckled harder, putting his hands up in retreat, "touchè." Stiles pulled up the blanket as he slowly winced, forcing his legs to move painfully and slid to one side of the bed, patting the empty space knowingly. Derek smiled, filling the empty space without hesitation._

_"Sorry. I must smell bad." Stiles couldn't help but cringe at his thought as he got a chuckle out of Derek. "When was the last time you went home?"_

_"I'm not going unless you are going with me." Derek felt Stiles' grip on his hand clench a bit tighter once again, a feeling of warmth and comfort surged through his veins. He still felt it- the pain- and he tried to take away as much as possibly could. "Hey.." Derek said when he started to see Stiles' eyes start to drop. He was getting more tired and tired everyday, exhausted of fighting against the pain and heavy doses of medicine, but he needed to keep Stiles awake. The more he had to force his body to wake up, the more it would hurt to stay awake. "You feel okay? Anything hurt?"_

_"M'okay." Stiles whispered._

_"Stiles you gotta stay awake." Derek thought of some way to keep his mind busy. "Remember, remember the day we met?"_

_Stiles chuckled softly, almost all-knowingly, "you mean when I saw you for one second and decided you were a murderer?" Stiles expected the furrowing eyebrows he received, "not my fault man, you're the one biting teenagers."_

_"Scott did good. He isn't dead yet. So he did good."_

_"Well."_

_He cocked another eyebrow._

_"Scott did well." Stiles snickered as Derek whacked him playfully with the pillow._

_But Derek watched Stiles' smirk disappear. "Stop thinking about it. It's going to hurt your brain."_

_"I can't." Stiles claimed. "Like- you could've left me Derek. If I became a vegetable, you would've left. Even when I didn't, you could've pretended you were just some guy on the side of the road. Why'd you do it?"_

_"I made a vow- that day- to always love you, in sickness and in health. I didn't plan on breaking it. 'Til death do us part." Derek had said, remembering the exact words from that day._

_"It sucks. Not remembering."_

_"Well- maybe you don't have to remember the wedding." Derek said as he started to get up._

_"What?"_

_Derek pushed the chair back, and got down on one knee as his heart raced. In his hand was a small, makeshift box he had to borrow._

_"Derek what are you doing?"_

_"Stiles Stilinski..." Derek started, "will you do me the honor, of making me the happiest man on Earth- again?"_

_Derek popped open the box, displaying the ring that Stiles had ever-So loved and forgotten about, the words "pack," still engraved on it._


	12. Night in Shining Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves! Sorry for another delay, but here's a sappy fluff filled chapter for all your wildest dreams. I'm planning for one more chapter to finish off the story:))

Today was the day.

Stiles was going to be discharged from his two month prison, two days after Derek had popped the question. Again.

Derek was humming happily that late evening as he freshened up in the bathroom. Thousands of questions surged through his mind, he's gone through this already. He doesn't have to freak out about it this time. Derek's already informed the team of doctors that were working with Stiles as they congratulated him, again. It was going to be perfect this time. 

"You're gonna be in a lot of pain for the next few days, but nothing you shouldn't be able to handle." The nurse reiterated earlier that morning. "As long as you take it easy, and take the prescriptions, you should be fine. Just make sure to check out for any side effects to any medication, your body is still weak in its immune system, and even a cold can rack you up." Derek remembered what she said as he thought of what he needed to take.

Stiles was already up and pulling a new pair of khakis barely over his legs. He was excited, like a little kid with over $20 in a candy store. The days of agonizing pain, lulling drugs, and slow cognitive abilities were long over. No more artificial scents of ammonia, and no more pink bed pans and ugly hospital gowns. No more hospital food or stitches or anxiety attacks or anything. Even the tremor hasn't come back again, and everyday Stiles gains more and more mobility.

Stiles winced from the expected pain as he tried to change his shirt. He wanted to look professional, and presentable like an actual 23 year old, but he just looked like a high schooler when he looked in the mirror. Stiles made sure packed up everything.

"Alright, pictures, books, medication, clothes- I think we got everything." Derek checked his mental to-do list. "You good?" He clocked at Stiles, who was getting into the wheelchair without even having to fight Derek about it. He held the crutches on his lap.

Stiles nodded, "let's get out of this hellhole." Derek looked back at the room- a blue carnation still in the case by the bedside table. He laughed softly as Derek wheeled him out the door and down the hall after thanking the staff for all they have done for them. Stiles took deep breaths as he strolled passed the halls, seemingly so familiar to Beacon Memorial Hospital's own that he had grown up in. Stiles was too tired to be all excited and jumping off the walls for this, and it wasn't until Derek had asked him, "you ready?" Stiles was already fastened in with the seatbelt and Derek turned the car keys, but yet the younger man hesitated.

Derek reached out for his hand, holding it gently and stroking his thumb down the small of his palm like he likes it. The wolf could smell the uncertainty and anxiety leeching off Stiles.

"Its okay if you're nervous." Derek reassured him.

"What if it happens again?" Stiles' voice was raw, and it almost broke. "Derek- I don't want to start over again. I don't- I don't want everything we've built to fucking come crashing down." Stiles didn't break eye contact with his love, and Derek didn't break eye contact with his love. 

"I promise it won't." He flashed a sincere, toothy grin, giving Stiles a soft kiss on the cheek before proceeding to start up the car. As Derek drove, he resisted the urge to suddenly jump out and smother Stiles in love. The man watched his husband's head lull against the window of the jet black cammaro and listened in to his heart. Stiles' eyes were still open, taking in all of the scenery and crazily winding streets. It wasn't long until Derek was parking his car in a tidy parking lot, decorated with trees and summer flowers everywhere. Stiles shot up from his seat, excited to get out but somehow Derek was already outside his door waiting to help him.

Grabbing him by the arm, Derek helped the young man out, allowing him to brace himself on the crutches, hiding silent winces past Derek. The werewolf threw his satchel-briefcase-manpurse-thingy across his shoulder and carried the other bag as he and Stiles took the elevator. When they arrived, something about the way the locks chimed against the key sounded familiar to Stiles. 

Inside the apartment was plenty of space, it was in the penthouse. The kitchen was small and tidy. Just the way Derek liked it when he was cooking, and the wooden accents against an otherwise marble theme made him feel at home. It smelled of fresh basil and thyme in the air and plants sat lonely on the window sill. Then there was the living room, where the TV and fireplace had untouched for several weeks. The guest room, or the second bedroom made into a study, was piled up with stacks of papers, job interview files, and all of Stiles necessary paperwork for his degree, but they were cleaned up and sorted, courtesy of Lydia who was previously here. 

"Uh- Just take a seat, take it easy while I make you something to eat." Derek motioned him to sit on the chair.

"Derek I can make my own food." Stiles started, annoyed as he started to get up.

"Stiles.."

Immediately he sat down, putting the crutches besides him. There was a sharp pain that seared through his abdomen when he crossed his legs, but he desperately tried to hide it. He scrunched his face for a second and hid it with a smile when Derek came over. A cup of black coffee was set on the table.

"Made some coffee- do you need something? Adjusted pillows? Food- I can make you some actual food, not that soup you've been trying to down back there." Derek scrambled as he rambled on.

"Derek."

"you want some baseball on the tv? I think there was some highlights on or something.. or maybe call your dad or I can see if I can get you-"

"Derek." Stiles caught his attention, smiling. "I'm fine. I just.. just need some Advil and rest."

"Right! Advil. On It. Ok." Derek awkwardly shifted before going on to fetch the pain relievers and water. "You should probably take some of the medication they issued." He handed Stiles two bottles.

Pain meds and antipsychotics.

"Derek?" Stiles held up the bottle with the label _Benzodiazepine. Valium_. "I'm not taking an anti-psychotic. This cannot possibly be any good."

"Corbin recommended it, you should take it. He said it will ease the panic and PTSD."

"I don't have fucking PTSD and I don't need fucking anti-anxiety medication."

Stiles stopped, wanting to punch himself in the gut for sounding like such a douchebag.

"S-sorry.." stiles could feel his face getting red. 

"It's okay." 

Stiles didn't hesitate to down the pain reliever with water in apology, leaving the anxiety stabilizer on the table. 

The next few hours were the same cycle on repeat: a searing pain in the sides hidden by a deceitful smile, and hovering by Derek. In the midst of it all was the talking about the "wedding."

Stiles and Derek eventually had to sit down and talk about it.

"Its not a wedding technically, more of a vow renewal since we are legally married by a licensed practitioner." Derek explained. 

"Do you still remember your vows?" Stiles asks curiously since he didn't remember his. But he's got an excuse.

"Everyday." He smiled across from him as they sat at the table. Derek's hand slowly traveler to Stiles'. 

"Big or small?"

"Small." In attendance, of course.

"Someone's backyard?"

"Your dad's house."

"Who'd we invite?" 

"Anyone and everyone." 

"When?"

"Friday."

"That's one week."

"Everyone who's attending is already aware."

Stiles took a deep breath after they've sorted out everything. They were going to have just a simple, classy setup with a nice garden and perfectly placed streamers and balloons. They wanted tealights on the tables and fairy lights hanging around so when the sun sets the party could start. 

"Tell me one." Stiles said quietly when suddenly they found themselves sitting together on the couch, his head loling against Derek's when he started to feel the meds kick in. Derek surrounded him with his warmth, putting his arm around Stiles and embracing him lovingly. He analyzed his beautiful body, his long battering eyelashes that hid stunning honey nut eyes. He loved the way his pronounced jawline pushed in his dimples whenever he even just smirks. He's so beautiful. Stiles' head laid on his shoulder, still and calm.

That's so unlike him.

"One what?"

"A vow."

Derek was rubbing the small of his palm again, stroking it with his thumb as he talked quietly, "I vowed to always hear you, even if you think I'm not listening." Stiles chuckled softly. Derek could tell he didn't have the energy, let alone the mood. But Stiles started to get heavier on Derek's shoulder, so did his eyes. 

"Stiles baby?" Derek rubbed his arm soothingly, but when his fingers touched a scorching body, he was slightly alarmed. "You okay? You're burning up." He put his hand on his forehead, brushing the loose strands of hair up.

"M'fine.." Stiles barely managed out. "Just a headache."

"Why don't I help you to your bed?" Derek thought he might be more comfortable in deep under the covers instead of using his shoulder bone as a pillow. 

"I'd rather stay here." Stiles muttered again. "Tell me something else. Keep my mind off of things." E felt Stiles nuzzle closer to him and so Derek gave him a small kiss on the forehead, probably soothing the pounding of his eardrums. 

"I'm gonna save that for the big day."

"Oh c'mon sourwolf. Just one more." Stiles chuckled. 

Derek smiled, "I vowed to love all your pros, cons, quirks, dreams, aspirations, and words."

Stiles stared at his husband for a good five solid minutes until Derek told him off. 

"What are you doing?" He grinned.

"Sorry. I got lost in your eyes." Stiles stared at his pale blue eyes, so icy and cold that they could almost be grey. "I love them. Your eyes." Stiles resumed to resting his head on Derek's chest. "And every time you hold my hand I've suddenly been found." His eyes then trailed to his lips, those thin line encompassed with a faint auburn, hiding his award winning kill-you-if-you-look-at-it smile. "Have you ever thought 'bout growing a beard?"

Derek stopped and burst out laughing. 

"Just sayin'," Stiles said as he groaned slightly and covered it up by changing the subject. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being the man I'm gonna spend my life with." Stiles nuzzled further into Derek's chest. He was staring out at the wall, his eyes fixated on something in front of him as he spoke, fazed about something. For the first time in a while, Stiles finally felt the fear. He felt in sink in, like an unwanted change in people you've known forever. Maybe it was just impulse, but Stiles continued on to say, "I wanna have a home. A family, you know? I can't do that if I'm dead." Stiles sighed, "I never thought about it while we were running around in the woods and practically getting shot at every other day. It's just like every other day. I lucked out this time." Stiles was right. He _had_ lucked out this time. Next time he might not.

"I know sweetheart." Derek comforted him by giving his hand a slight squeeze to let him know that he was listening. He ran his hands through Stiles' long hair. "I won't let anything else hurt you." Stiles went quiet for a few minutes, but small groans got out anyways, "you feeling okay?" Derek asked in concern when his fingers met the young man's scorching forehead. 

"I don't.. I don't feel good. I feel lightheaded." He sat up, arching his back against the couch pillow. Derek soothingly rubbed his back in circles as he talked to him. He followed his eyes that trailed around the room, and then up at the lamp light. "I'm gonna throw up."

"Ok-" Derek helped him up, carrying half his body weight on his shoulders and walked him to the bathroom. Everytime he swayed, Derek reminded him that he's got him. 

"The room is spinning-" Stiles started as he felt Derek's grip on him get a little tighter. Stiles sat down against it, giving Derek somewhat of a smirk. "Haven't felt this bad since that one time in sophomore year I stole my dad's Scotch." 

Derek tried to restrain from laughing, knowing that he was in unbearable pain. "It was one hell of a hangover. Pardon my french but _jesus fucking christ almighty._ " Turning around again to puke, Stiles' eyes were closed at this point as he keeled over, retching into the toilet as Derek half-held him up. The entire time, Derek never let go of Stiles, blocking out the bike aroma that clogged his senses. Stiles vomited again, this time with a little worse aiming as splotches splatter against the white porcelain. Derek grabbed a hand towel as Stiles groaned, wiping the corners of his mouth clean. "I can't-" he started to say, panting in between as he struggled to catch his breath. The blood was officially drained from his face and the dark circles and veins became apparent under his eyes, followed by rough pants and a rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Relax baby, relax Stiles-" Derek held him close as he vomited into the toilet once again. The wolf put his hand on Stiles' forehead and brushed the hair strands back off his sweaty forehead. He was exasperated, flushed, feverish. That's when his pale body swayed and went limp, only for Derek to catch him before his head hit the bathtub. "Hey- hey, hey, hey I got you Stiles," Derek pulled him up and sat down against the bathroom wall, laying Stiles' unconscious body against his chest. He rubbed his chest in small circles, whispering words of comfort. Derek sighed, closing his eyes hard and wishing that this would all be over, and that Stiles won't have to live like this anymore. He wished for no more panic attacks, no more passing out.

Derek opened up his eyes again. He was still out. Poor baby.

"Hey. It's still beating, still working after all this." Derek whispered, soothingly rubbing circles on his chest, where his heart is. He knew Stiles couldn't hear him, but he continued as his own eyes tore up, "after all these years, its still beating. Right here." Derek wiped his eyes, pretending like it never happened. And when Stiles started to come to, he stared up at the ceiling, laughing at his own patheticness. 

Stiles groaned, "oh god I passed out didn't I?"

Derek chuckled softly, "a bit. But I got you."

Stiles could barely get a laugh out, but he did anyways, "pfft- my night in shining armor." Derek helped Stiles up, making sure he didn't put any extra pressure on his legs. Clutching the sides of his hips, Stiles bit his lip as he tried not to whine. Something about knowing that he was in Derek's arms made him feel better. His senses seems to fine tune themselves because all he could focus on was the bright fluorescent light of the bathroom and the slight humming of it. 

"Ok- let's just get you into bed ok? You'll feel better if you sleep it off." Derek explained, helping him into the room and watched Stiles throw himself onto the bed in exhaustion. Magically, when Stiles became conscious of what was happening, his soiled shirt and khakis were pulled off. Derek pulled the sheets over him as his eyelids dropped and tucked him like his old man used to do. "Goodnight." He kissed him on the forehead and looked at him apologetically before closing the door behind him. Derek made himself a cup of coffee and sat down, letting a sigh out at the empty kitchen. His eyes trailed the walls; pictures of him and the gang were plastered in the walls, and the even some kid pictures of Stiles, since you know- Derek's all perished in the fire. He rubbed his hand down his face and clocked his fist against his temple, allowing his elbow on the table to hold his sleep-deprived head. The next few hours were going to be hell. Derek downed his cup of coffee, a remorse taste lingered on his tongue as his prime adrénaline tore through the caffeine in his system. In short, he still felt like he hasn't slept in two months. Derek wondered how he let it get like this, why did he let it get so bad? He promised to keep Stiles safe. He vowed to. 

Stiles Stilinski cheated death once again. One of these days, death's gonna start running a tab on him.

Derek pulled out his phone and decided to call Noah. Immediately to his surprise, the sherif answered.

"Hey Derek." Noah started on the other side.

"Sheriff. Good to hear your voice again." 

"Sorry I couldn't swing by before you guys left, got caught up again. How are you? How's Stiles?"

"It's not- not a problem. We're good, uh I'm good.. Stiles is feeling a little under the weather but he's recuperating."

"Oh- he's doing well though?"

"Of course." Derek cleared his throat, "listen, I wanted to ask you about the vow renewal."

"You've got everything organized already? Wow we just started kiddo."

Derek chuckled, "not quite, but i wanted to ask since it's not a legal ceremony, if you would like to officiate it. Or not- o-only if you'd like to." Derek bit his lip awkwardly, hoping he accepts.

"I'd be honored to Derek." On the other side of the line, the sheriff smiled with his phone pressed to his ear against his shoulder as he signed some paperwork.

"Awesome. I'll uh, let you get back to work, but any interest in stopping by tomorrow to talk?"

"Of course. I'll swing by in the afternoon. Have a good night Derek."

Derek put his phone away, content with today's progress. He sat back in the chair and let the silence of the home welcome him. The vibrations of the wind chimes from his downstairs neighbor could be heard with his ears as it sank into his bones. He was home. Derek checked the clock; it was 10 at night. 

Time chucked itself out the window and flew. 

The wolf texted Scott, Lydia, Malia, and even Melissa who had been asking, an update before freshening up in the bathroom for bed. Derek poked his head inside of the room, finding Stiles sound asleep. Quietly, he walked over and held his hand against his forehead. Derek frowned; he was still burning up. It's not like he could give him any medication since he's already taken some and shouldn't double up. He didn't want to wake him up either. Resorting to the kitchen, the man grabbed a small cloth and dampened it with rosewater- because only Derek Hale would causally have rosewater lying around in the fridge. Immediately, he went back to Stiles and carefully placed it on his head in hopes of bringing down the fever. The thought of waking up Stiles as he tried to creep into the bed horrified him, so instead, he grabbed a pillow and went on to journey to the couch. Something stopped him though, because Stiles wasn't asleep. Because he hasn't been truly sleeping in weeks. 

"Where are you going?" Stiles rasped out; his throat was raw and pained.

Derek turned out, almost-but-not-surprised to see Stiles awake. "I didn't want to wake you up."

Stiles patted down at the empty space next to him. He would've felt too guilty about making Derek sleep uncomfortably. The wolf gave in and succumbed to the exhaustion that devoured him whole, resting down next to Stiles on the bed. He hasn't slept with his husband for almost three months. Derek didn't know how to feel, all he wanted to do was cuddle with Stiles and take his pain away. But Stiles was still sensitive, he was still unsure of how to act around him. Regardless, Stiles took the washcloth off his head and put it down on the bedside table. It was still warm from his radiated heat. He rolled onto his side, his back to Derek, and allowed Derek to snuggle up to him. Wrapping his arm around the young man, Derek smiled as he felt Stiles' familiar warmth and body that had finally cooled down. And to think, Stiles had his own goodnight story sleeping right next to him. His own night in shining armor was more of a werewolf in henleys, and they might not have a castle or dragons, but at least they've got each other. 

"Goodnight Stiles."

"G'night."


	13. The Vows- I mean Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a whirlwind of emotions and six months of delayed writing, but this fic is officially done :) enjoy the last, sappiest of the fluffy sap chapter you can read.

They say the early bird gets the worm, but, Stiles was up and ready on his wobbly cruches that he was ready to throw at the wall. He was in the kitchen with a pot of coffee brewing and toast in the toaster. Man, he looked stunning today. His converse that had been confiscated at the hospital were back on his feet, cleaner then ever like the sneaker heads in high school kept theirs. He had his chinos and a nice pink dress shirt on, accompanied with his well groomed hair. Prior to today, Stiles had gotten a well-needed haircut as was back to his old ways; cut and crisp on the sides, long and pulled back on the front. Something about today was different. 

The sun shined radiantly through the bedroom window, brightening up everything around it. Derek's smile as he ran through his room frantically could give the sun a run for its money. Amazed that Stiles had beat him, he quickly dressed himself, freshened up, and cleaned up the bed. Like a normal person, with a normal life, and a normal routine. The aroma of a bit-too-burnt toast hit the air, then Derek's nose, then the smoke detector. All he could hear was the mix of the alarm beeping and Stiles' mediocre cussing. It truly brought laughter to him. Something about today was different.

"Morning Stiles." Derek causually walked by the grown man swatting the detector with an oven mitt, cursing on his mother's grave about.

"Huh-? Morning Derek! I uh.. got distracted." Stiles frantically started to violently hit the damn thing when Derek went over to the toast and pulled the plug out and the scorched bread that looks more like tree bark now.

"That might just help a bit." Derek chuckled.

"Maybe Just a little." Stiles smiled back, looking for his common sense and logic, thinking he dropped it on the floor somewhere. 

Derek pulled his husband by the tie and kissed him on the cheek, "you should be sitting down. You don't need to add any stress onto it."

Stiles took a bland piece of bread out of the bag and into his mouth, "Derek you know I can't sit still for more than half a second."

Just for one day, Derek would like to have Stiles sitting down on his ass long enough to not burn the toast. "What are you so dressed up for?" He asked curiously.

"Well since the hospital ever-so graciously destroyed my really nice- and not to mention expensive- 'getup, I've decided to up my game." Stiles continued with his dry bread stuffed in a cheek. "Plus, I've got to start looking for a job, I figured I can't be doing that in sweatpants." Derek held Stiles from behind, swinging his arms around Stiles' waist and nuzzled against his cheek.

That entire morning was spent between the two bickering about how he doesn't need to be on his feet so quickly, and he shouldn't worry about employment since Derek's got enough money for them for the rest of their lives. "Did you take the new meds? I left it on the table last night after I picked it up from the pharmacy." Derek asked him, receiving a cute scowl that Stiles meant to be serious, but all it did was make him look hangery. 

"Downed it with my cuppa' joe." 

It was then when he realized just how similar he and Stiles truly wore- resilient, kind, hardworking, and most importantly-

Annoyingly stubborn.

So incredibly stubborn to the point that Stiles just might go and track down the guy who hit him for a year and then go to a police academy for four years just to get the right to slap some cuffs on the guy, a good decade later. But that's not stubborn. It's being committed to your work right? 

_Today_ was the day. 

The calls were made, streamers were strung, and tuxedos were ironed. The party was scheduled to start at 5, the ceremony at 6, and then the reception right after. Derek called Scott previously that morning to make sure everyone would make it; them, Melissa, Sheriff, Deaton, Argent, Liam, Mason, everybody. Just like the last time. While Derek was running around, Stiles found himself lying down again. He was too lazy or unable to release himself from the cotton comfort that was his very own covers, not that thin sheet for an excuse of warmth at the hospital. Derek took the time to clean up the breakfast table, noticing that Stiles had barely gotten through his meal with only a few bites from his toast and barely any drinks. Levels of concern and frustration skyrocketed within Derek, following Stiles' footsteps.

"Stiles?" He found him sitting down on the edge of the bed, holding his hands to his head with his elbows resting on his knees. "Baby are you okay?" He sat next to him, rubbing his back in a circular motion. 

Stiles smiled, "I'm fine.. just felt a little dizzy.."

"Not nervous are you?" Derek tried to change the subject, knowing that this was health related and not nerves. 

Stiles managed chuckle a bit. "More like so excited I can't stay still but I can." Stiles felt Derek's hand trail around his own when he sighed, "I'm fine. Seriously. Come on. We've got stuff to do today. Go get 'em tiger."

Derek chuckled slightly, seeing the blockers in Stiles' eyes that hid his strife." Giving out a long sigh, Derek hesitantly got up to continue his prep. Stiles watched him leave, noticing a bulge in his pants pocket. Probably some sort of ring box or something like that. 

Its not.

Derek checked on it every two minutes, making sure the box was still inside his pocket and hadn't fallen out somehow. He couldn't keep himself contained and couldn't wait to give it Stiles at the end of the day as a gift. He remembers the conversation with Stiles' father so clearly from the other night.

_"So you're sure you wanna do this?"_

_"Positive."_

_"And you know which one?"_

_"Yes. He always talked about how he loved it."_

_"Its not too big?"_

_"I don't uh.. think.. that's gonna be a problem in a few years." Derek could feel the sheriff smiling through the phone line._

Everything was planned. Everything was going to be perfect. After an hour of running around making all the phone calls, Derek was exhausted and needed a break, but it was only a matter of time before they were supposed to be at the Sheriff's house. 

"Stiles?" Derek found him going through his old files. "I was gonna go and grab our tuxedos from the dry cleaners and then we can head out?- what uh... whatcha doing?" He peered in.

Stiles perked up, a pencil in between his teeth, "yeah- yes let me just- and we will go do that." The young man pointed his finger guns at Derek in a cheesy way, throwing all of his papers into his desk drawer. Stiles grabbed his coat and his nice shoes on the way out the door.

"What were you looking at?" Derek asked him, watching Stiles buckle in as he placed the crutches in the seat behind him.

"Just old work stuff I guess."

Derek smiled, starting the car and driving along the route. He never slipped the grimace out once. 

There's something about driving around with your favorite person on earth, no destination in mind, and an endless amount of miles left to pertain. The music was softly playing, the cars were loudly beeping at each other, and the streets of LA seemed to wind crazily more than ever, but Stiles loved it. He loved every moment of it. The beat of the music was shrouded with the beat of the young man's heart. It pounded rapidly, then slowly, all at once. His eyes shifted open and then closed, his long eyelashes gave in relentlessly. By the time Derek had gotten to the dry cleaners, Stiles had fallen asleep, so he had opted for a quick dash. Derek listened in to his heart again, making sure he really was asleep and not in a coma. It was a solid thump- thump thump- thump thump. Derek didn't have it in him to wake him up, but by the time he checked the clock, he realized he should've been on the road to the sheriff's house for the wedding. 

\--

"Stiles." His whisper echoed.

"Stiles baby. Wake up." Derek's fingers caressed his cheek until his eyes fluttered open. 

"Wha- What? What'd I miss? Oh god- the wedding- Did we miss it?" Immediately the young man started to ramble as the wolf chuckled sweetly and gave his bunny teeth grin.

"No," Derek unbuckled his seatbelt. "We're at your dad's, we're a little late but it's good. We're gonna get ready quickly okay? You good?"

Stiles got up quickly, a head rush boiled his blood and suddenly stopped his adrenaline. "I'm good, I'm good."

Eventually they were greeted by Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa, and the gang who were already prepping and decorated the backyard beautifully. Just like the first time. The fairy lights were up. The blue flowers that laced everything. It was just like the first time. 

"Damn This place looks incredible.." 

But time was not on their side as they raced into the house with their tuxedos in hand. On the opposite side of the house, guests had already started arriving. Everyone was running up and down the stairs frantically, making sure every little detail was perfect. 

Malia and Lydia were struggling to get their dresses ready, and let's not even talk about the hair, ladies. Scott was having a mental breakdown because he couldn't find the rings, not realizing that Derek hadn't given them to him yet until Melissa reminded him. Noah was making sure everything outside was ready and that there was no forecast for rain. Derek and Stiles were in opposite rooms because it's bad luck to see the bride- 'er groom before the wedding. 

Scott came in when Derek was changing.

"Are you gonna give it to him?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow though. I'm not gonna spring it on him. Too much excitement makes me nervous for him." He smiled. 

"He's gonna be so excited for the house. For everything that's gonna come with that. A family." Scott spoke and Derek poked his pocket. That Stiles Stilinski? A family man?

Derek was buttoning his white dress shirt, making sure his black bow tie was crisp as ever. He loved the way his white tuxedo blazer with black looked against the black pants. Something about the way he parted his hair made him look like a dashing Clark Kent. Derek Hale's still got it. Derek stared at himself in the mirror. _One more chance, Derek. Don't screw it up._ Love is in the air, and even the sourwolf that was would admit it. He smelled it. It smelled like... petunias and morning aftershave. Like a dash of cinnamon on top of a cup of hot cocoa as the two curled up together in the frost that was a Tuesday December morning. It smelled like burnt toast and spilled OJ because Derek once cut Stiles off from coffee since he was already amped up without the added caffeine. Deep breath buddy. Deep breath. Derek started to chuckle, do it for Stiles. And after all those years of pining for Kate Argent in which he thought would be his teen romance, little did he know he was beating up the love of his life for running around in the woods with wolves. He went downstairs to meet with Melissa, constantly excited to ask the question, "is everything perfect yet?"

Stiles on the other hand had sweat profusely through his first dress shirt. The pit stains gave away his anxiety ruthlessly. Changing into his backup, he wore a white dress shirt with a classic go-to all black tuxedo with a black bow tie. Stilinski men pull off black real well. Stiles' sweat runs didn't stop there as he started to feel out of it and distant from the world. Ignoring the sudden drop and interest in everything, Stiles ran his hands through his hair, trying to make it effortlessly look decent. 

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. 

He needed it off- he needed _everything_ off. The bow tie was physically choking him and Stiles was suffocating. He couldn't think straight oh god. Red and pink splattered against his cheek and he kept seeing himself back there- back at the scene. Red everywhere. There was red everywhere and oh god, Derek. Poor Derek was there, rapping on the window again. Stiles held himself against the wall, tugging at anything and everything that he could take off until- oh god, oh god- until everything became a blur. 

Everything went black and all you could hear was a thud. 

Everyone stopped. 

Derek looked at Melissa, both knowing exactly what happened. They both sprinted up the stairs, as fast as you can as a wedding party and yelled out for Stiles.

"Stiles?" Derek opened the door, looking at his husband lying face down on the floor. Some streaks of blood lay beside him. "Stiles!" He yelled out over his heavy breathing. "Oh baby," the sourwolf whispered as he kneeled down and pulled Stiles on to his side. Blood had been dripping down a small gash on his forehead. He must've hit it on the way down. 

There was a slow heartbeat. 

"He's barely breathing-" Derek tried not to yell, tried not to freak out but that's incredibly hard to do when you thought the hardest part was over. Noah, Scott, Malia, and Lydia had all ran up by then, wondering what was going on. _"Melissa. Call an ambulance!"_

Derek had has hand on Stiles' cheek. "Stiles baby I've got you," Derek whispered, ignoring the fact that blood was smudged against the sleeve of his white blazer. "Damn it," Derek started, "I knew it was too early." It was too early for Stiles to have been discharged. He was still weak, he still needed to recoup. He didn't want to say that he told them so but... he told them so. 

Desperately, they all paced in the room, waiting for emergency services to arrive or Stiles to wake the fuck up. Which ever came first.

Desperately, they all soon found themselves paced in the waiting room of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.

Melissa came walking down the hall, the clack-clack noise of her high heels following her with papers in hand. The entire gang jumped her.

"What'd they say?"

"Is he okay?"

"What's going on?"

Melissa took a deep breath, "He's awake, he's fine and is in stable condition."

Derek drew a long breath as he ran his hand up his forehead and though his hair, "oh thank god."

Noah managed to half-smile at the dressed up nurse, "do they know what happened?"

"He's been passing out a lot ever since- chronic low blood pressure they said." Derek suggested.

Melissa cut in, "hes hypotensive- yes, and they found two incredibly strong meds in his system, one for anxiety and another for pain- they said he most likely had a severe delayed reaction to the mix. They said he hit his head when he fell and that triggered symptoms of his previous injury and concussion."

"Oh god I made him take those this morning. He said that they- they made him feel awful but the doctor said-" 

Malia put her hand on his shoulder, "Derek its okay."

"They wanna keep him for a while, just to make sure his heart isn't lagged back.. he's still recuperating from severe injuries." Melissa explained.

It was too early.  
Too fucking early, and Derek knew it. He freaking called it. He's known ever since the sleeping, the constant worry, the nausea, the fainting. Derek couldn't help but think that he was the one who let it get this bad. After Stiles woke up from the coma, Derek's been his only light in the world, his only trust, his only emergency contact. Derek should've knew. "He wants to see you." Melissa said to Derek and he didn't hesitate to take the invite. Slowly, the opened the door and let themselves into the room and Melissa left them alone. Derek could feel his heart almost beat out of his chest.

"Hes awake. And conscious?" Derek asked, receiving a head nod from Melissa. "Then we'll do it here. If he still wants to."

Stiles was still in his dress shirt and pale as ever. An IV was pricking into his arm painfully and a bandage covered up the evidence on his forehead. Derek couldn't believe they were back in the hospital again. "Hey sweetheart," Derek whispered, his hand once again wrapping Stiles'. "I thought we agreed no more hospital trips." He chuckled.

Stiles let out a faint laugh, "sorry, I'm not exactly known for my word." Stiles scanned Derek down to the core, "aw man, I'm sorry." He noticed the faint blood stains on his jacket.

"What?" Derek looked at it, "oh that? It's nothing. What matters is that you're safe and healthy." Derek stroked the small of his palm, "you uh.. wanna tell me what happened? Looks like you got yourself pretty good over there." He smiled sweetly, referring to the knick on his forehead.

"Ah just another one for the books," Stiles said as he explained his newfound hobby. Counting his scars. He threw his hands in a weird rolling gesture as he spoke, "I don't know i, I was fine and excited and happy and then the next minute- I couldn't breathe and I couldn't see and everything just blurred." Stiles swallowed hard. "I thought I was gonna be okay."

Derek inhaled sharply, "next time you feel dizzy or off or anything- you tell me. Got it?"

"Will do Sergeant Suck-up."

Derek chuckled, playfully hitting his arm. Even when mangled and half lucid, Stiles still looked good. And white and black, especially the latter,  
really were his colors.

"I ruined the marriage. Again." He said, his voice getting quieter and quieter. 

Derek gave Stiles a kiss on the cheek. "Who said you ruined the wedding? We just started."

Stiles furrowed his brow, his head hurt too much to solve any riddles, but everything clicked as soon as Scott came in, leading a line of Malia, Lydia, Melissa, and in last, the sheriff. 

"Hey buddy," Scott came over and gave him a good old fashioned fist bump. "You gave us a scare back there."

"Sorry. I'm usually the funny one." He cracked a smile.

"What'ddya say we get this show back on the road?" Scott suggested. 

"Here? Right now?! Derek?" Stiles tried his best to sit up right, the smell of ammonia once again clogging his nostrils violently. His forehead scrunched at the feeling of the bandage as he tried not to pick at it. Derek held Stiles' hand tightly. 

"Right here. Right Now." Derek pulled out the rings. "Scott you know I love ya but, you'd lose your ass if it wasn't attached to your own body." 

Scott gave a hearty laugh as he handed Derek a piece of paper. 

"Oh hell are we actually doing this? I- I don't have my vows on me- I don't-" Stiles was frantically going through his pockets.

"Stiles." Lydia said one word and it was all it took to get his self together.

"No backing out now dude." Scott flashed a grin. 

So right then and there, it happened. Stiles Stilinski married Derek Hale again with just an answer of a question. Derek took it upon himself to say a few words.

"Stiles. Um- I was going to use the word vows, but.. I like the word promise better. I'm not one for the conventional." Derek cleared his throat. And so with that, Derek promised himself to Stiles.

He promised to keeping him safe.  
He promised to guide Stiles in the right direction should he ever veer off the road. Those exact words used.  
He promised to allow Stiles to make his mistakes with get-out-of-jail cards, because we all need those.  
He promised that even if It's 3:30 In the morning in some abandoned gas station, he will be there for him.  
He promised that he will make everyday cherishable.  
He promised to be thankful for the family that Stiles and his friends provided him.  
He promised to making sure that Stiles always knows he's cared for and never taken for granted.  
He promised that no force could drive them apart, but should they, they'll find their way back.  
He promised that he will always appreciate the fact that Stiles is human, even when Stiles doesn't. 

And most importantly, he promised that he will love Stiles for all that he is, in sickness and in health.

 

_"Do you still take Stiles Stilinski as your lawfully wedded husband and still wish to fulfill your vows?"_

_"I do."_

_"And do you Stiles-"_

_"I do."_

Stiles didn't even let his father finish, which just made the moment just a teeny bit sweeter.

"'Till death do us part?" Stiles whispered, focusing on Derek's pale blue eyes.

"'Til death do us part. And then some." The wolf flashed his award-winning pearly-whites.

"You may now-"

Derek jumped, "wait!" He startled everyone as if he was having second thoughts.

"Objection already Derek? Come on man." Scott sneered, arousing the mini wedding party in the hospital room. 

The man quickly walked out of the room and sped back in.

A blue carnation in his hand.

He had gotten it in the shop while they were in the waiting room.

"I was lucky enough to find this here but.." Derek smiled, threading the stem of the beautiful popping blue flower through his messy hair, resting it on his ear. 

"Derek we get it. We're gay." Stiles whispered, chuckling to himself.

Dimples crevassed in Derek's cheeks as he returned to his place in front of Stiles, trying not to laugh. He could physically feel the wrinkles forming around his eyes from how hard he was smiling. They exchanged rings excitedly, and at this point, Noah gave up and raised his hands in defeat, signaling them the go-ahead.

And when Derek and Stiles locked lips, Stiles swore it was just like the first time again. It was like fireworks and lightning and stars- just like how they describe in it the movies. Like the way you fantasized to have one with your crush and made up crazy scenarios that never happened when you were in the ninth grade. 

It was amazing.

Clapping and wooing could be heard down the hospital halls.

"Alright lovebirds, why don't we see if we can get the heck out of here and back to where the party started!" Scott was pumping his fists in the air with one arm around Malia who was almost just as excited. 

"Yeah- Yeah we'll catch up with you guys.." Derek said, hinting that they wanted some privacy and to that, they were granted.

Stiles ran his hand through his hair, almost panting as he spoke with flustered cheeks, "oh man that was- that happened so quick and-  
That was something amazing." He spoke quietly as Derek put his hand on his back, motioning him sit down on the edge of the bed. 

"You good? You feeling okay?"

Stiles nodded his head. "Just a little too much excitement makes my legs quiver." He grinned impishly.

That excitement? It's the butterflies in his stomach. It's the feeling of attraction and intimacy roaming in his confused brain. Stiles was smiling with droopy eyes again as he admired the ring of his finger.

"I can't believe I almost forgot what this was." 

He slid it off, revealing the engraving off his initials on the outside and the same word that's been there for months on the inside.

"It means I love you." Derek reminded him.

_Pack._


End file.
